


Rough Diamond

by Timeless A-Peel (timelessapeel)



Series: Gareth Hunt and Joanna Lumley Character Crossovers [2]
Category: New Avengers (TV), Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Adventure, Angst, F/M, Fantasy, Friendship, Gen, Science Fiction, time-travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelessapeel/pseuds/Timeless%20A-Peel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Sequel to "Carbon Copy." Mike Gambit's special abilities have attracted the wrong kind of attention...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Visitors

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own The New Avengers, nor any of the associated characters. They belong to The Avengers (Film and TV) Enterprises. I don't own Sapphire and Steel, nor the characters of Sapphire and Steel themselves. They're the property of ITC Entertainment Group story is written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Author's Note: A few years back, I watched Joanna Lumley's Sapphire and Steel, and quite enjoyed it. I ended up writing a S&S crossover with TNA, a story with a fairly ludicrous premise called "Carbon Copy" as a result. It was a fun fic to write, and I thought I might play with it again one day. I got another idea for it an age ago, this one a multi-chapter work instead of a one-shot, and somehow managed to finish writing it at some point. It's been sitting on my harddrive for about half an age since, so I thought I may as well post it since I have a chance. I have no idea what the traffic's like in the Avengers crossover section (the majority of the handful of entries are based on the comic books and erroneously posted in this category), but if you've found your way here, I hope you enjoy it. You may want to read "Carbon Copy" first, if you haven't already, as this one sort of follows on from it. I haven't watched S&S since I wrote the first fic, so hopefully I've done the show and characters justice from memory. I thought this would be a good way to get myself posting in 2013. And a bit of sci-fi is always fun...  
> \------------------------------

"Hello, Mr. Gambit."

The voice came suddenly, without warning and near his ear. Gambit felt himself freeze, felt the shiver run down his spine. He knew that voice, knew it in some ways better than his own, but also knew that it was wrong, how it was wrong. He turned to face the speaker, knowing who he was about to see, but still feeling the lump rise in his throat when he came face-to-face with her.

"Sapphire," he identified, and the blonde woman with the unearthly blue eyes smiled at the fact that he recognised her. She was wearing a different dress than the last time he'd seen her, this one with diaphronous sleeves and a sash tied at the waist. It didn't matter much—it was still blue, and it still clung to her familiar figure in exactly the same ways it would another woman he knew very, very well...

He felt something clamp down hard on his right arm, and he turned his head to see a man in a gray suit, with equally gray eyes boring right through his skull. He was shorter than Gambit, blonde, and his face was handsome but humourless, the expression cold and detached. "I see you brought a friend this time," Gambit observed, glancing back at Sapphire. "Is he another—what did you call yourself? Time agent?"

Sapphire's smile broadened. "Yes," she confirmed, nodding at the man. "This is my partner, the one I was attempting to locate when we met. He's called Steel."

The man's grip was vicelike, and seemed to be sapping the warmth from Gambit's bones. "I'd never have guessed," he quipped, flashing Steel a humourless smile that lasted a microsecond. "So, whose face did you nick?"

Steel frowned, although his expression was already so unfriendly it didn't make much of a difference, clearly bemused by the comment. The gray eyes flicked to Sapphire in search of an explanation.

"He has a friend," she provided, and Gambit noted that Steel's sour expression seemed to have no effect on her. "I used her as a template when I chose a form."

"I see." Steel's voice was crisp and clipped and unyielding, just like the rest of him. He regarded Gambit with what approached mild interest. "I trust her take was an improvement?"

"You know how it is," Gambit replied levelly, meeting the man's eyes and refusing to blink. "You can make a carbon copy, but it'll never live up to the original. Argh!" Steel's grip tightened, and Gambit felt the bones in his arm bend alarmingly.

"Steel." Sapphire's voice was soft but firm. "You gave your word you wouldn't hurt him."

"I agreed that it was better to bring him in alive, nothing more," Steel contradicted, but loosened his grip on Gambit's arm nonetheless. "He's a time traveller. He doesn't deserve our kindness."

"Ah, so she's told you about me," Gambit managed from between gritted teeth, resisting the urge to clutch at his wounded arm.

"Yes," Steel confirmed, looking him up and down. "I've never encountered a time traveller before. Speaking freely, I was expecting more."

"You're a real prize," Gambit muttered, looking to Sapphire and jerking his head at Steel. "Where'd you dredge him up?"

"I was assigned," Sapphire said simply, regarding the pair of them with more than a measure of serenity. She looked as though she was enjoying herself.

"That figures," Gambit said with little enthusiasm. "Well, if the two of you just came to stare, you've both had a good look. Now you can skip off to whatever you lot use for a pub and regale all the other time agents about your find."

"We plan to leave very soon," Sapphire confirmed. "But you are coming with us."

"Come again?" Gambit looked from one to the other in disbelief, before settling his attention on Sapphire. "Hang on, I'm not going anywhere. Not with you, definitely not with her."

"You don't have a choice," Steel said flatly. "You're a threat to the continuum, to the very fabric of time itself. Your...kind." He spat the word with disgust. "You cross centuries on a whim, burning holes in the corridors of time, admitting all manner of beings that were never meant to cross over into this universe."

"You fix them again, don't you?" Gambit defended. "Or at least that's what she said you do." He jerked his head at Sapphire. "Anyway, if I'd known I was letting...things...in, I would've stopped. I will stop. There, does that make you happy?"

"Whether I am happy or not matters very little," Steel told him. "But even if you were to keep your promise, it would matter very little. There are dozens, perhaps hundreds, like you, all of them causing the same damage as you, creating endless holes that need mending."

"But if we could understand how it is you travel," Sapphire put in, moving to join them, "we might be able to put a stop to it."

Gambit set his jaw grimly. "So that's it. I'm a specimen. A lab rat, that your people can study, and use to capture the rest of us. Thanks, but no. I'd rather not have a part in a time traveller genocide."

Steel's hand tightened its grip, and this time his scream echoed around the walls of his flat. When he opened his eyes again, Sapphire was standing very close. She reached out and stroked his cheek, her palm gliding smoothly over his flesh.

"We were betrayed," she told him, blue eyes drawing him in. "Someone, higher up, trapped us. They wanted us out of the way. We cannot return without something that will make it impossible for them to dispose of us again."

Gambit nodded in understanding, jaw set grimly. "So I'm the bait, peace offering, bargaining chip—whatever you want to call it."

"Please understand," Sapphire said serenely, but there was just a touch of sadness in her voice. "If there was any other way..."

"You wouldn't use me to save your own hides," Gambit finished cynically. "I'm sure you have the best of intentions—"

A sudden knock at the door had them all whip round in surprise. "Gambit?" a voice called out cheerfully. "Are you in there?"

"Steed!" Gambit hissed, looking from one of his captors to the other. "Listen to me, you can take me, that's one thing. But don't you dare touch him, do you hear me? He has nothing to do with this."

More knocking. "Gambit?" The sounded worried now, and Mike knew he didn't have much time.

"Look, just push off and let me handle this. I'll get rid of him, and then we can finish this, but this isn't his fight. No one else needs to get hurt. Please."

Sapphire and Steel exchanged glances, and Gambit knew that there was some sort of unspoken communication going on between them. Suddenly, he felt the grip on his arm loosen. "We'll be watching," Steel warned, and disappeared without a trace.

Steed was beginning to wonder if his colleague was in trouble, and he should force Gambit's door, when it swung open and an almost painfully cheerful Mike Gambit was revealed.

"Hello, Steed," he greeted. "What brings you here?"

There was something off about Gambit's tone, but Steed couldn't be certain what it was. Until he knew, he wasn't going to show his hand. If someone was listening, it could very easily be the death of Gambit.

"Business, I'm afraid. Very minor, but it needs taking care of." He arched an inquiring eyebrow. "Do you mind if I come in? I'd rather not discuss it in the corridor."

"Oh! Oh, yes, of course." Gambit looked both chastened and reluctant, but stepped aside to admit Steed. The instant he crossed the threshold, Steed discovered that he wasn't Steed's only visitor.

"Purdey!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know you were here."

Gambit, closing the door behind him, stiffened and whirled round. "What-?" he began in surprise, then stopped when he followed Steed's eyeline.

The leggy blonde was seated on Gambit's couch, but she rose when Steed saw her, and moved to join him. She was clad in a figure-hugging, knee-length dress.

It was blue.

"Gambit, why didn't you tell me Purdey was here?" Steed wanted to know, as Gambit moved hurriedly to where he stood, as though racing Purdey to the finish line.

"It, uh, hadn't occurred to me," Gambit said vaguely, meeting Purdey's eyes as though he were trying to convey some message to her telepathically. Purdey stared back, gaze unwavering.

Steed looked from one to the other in bemusement. "Have I interrupted something?" he hazarded.

"No," Purdey asserted, and there was something slightly off about the timbre of her voice, just as there had been about Gambit's, though not in the same way. "I just dropped in." She said it as though she were challenging Gambit and Steed to disagree, though Steed didn't have the foggiest idea why. "Didn't I, Gambit?"

"Yeah. Hoping I'd take her to lunch," Gambit replied, and when Steed looked at him, that same odd, taut smile was on his face as it had been when he'd answered the door. "You know Purdey. Always looking for a meal, especially if she can get someone else to pay for it."

Purdey chuckled at that, but there was something eerie about the sound. It seemed to echo on long after it should have died away. "He's proving very stubborn this time, though," she commented.

"Well, I've built up a few reserves over the years," Gambit replied. "Anyway, Steed, what was it you needed to tell me about?"

Steed was distracted. Aside from the laugh and the voice, there was something strange about Purdey's eyes, too. They seemed to be a deeper blue than he remembered. "Hmm? Oh, yes of course." He tore his gaze away from Purdey's visage and refocused on Gambit. "McKay wants us present when they interrogate Collins. I don't think it's strictly necessary, but he insists. He's in one of his particularly stubborn moods."

"Well, we'll to do it then, won't we? Because the only person I know who's more bloodyminded than you is McKay." Gambit's eyes twinkled with a little of their usual spark at that, and Steed relaxed. Maybe he was imagining all the tension between them.

"Even I'm not foolish enough to argue against that," Steed quipped back. "It'll mean coming in on a Saturday, I'm afraid."

Gambit sighed theatrically. "I'm sure we'll survive somehow. But I'll need to feed Purdey first if we're going to survive 'til then."

Steed chuckled as Gambit started to see him to the door. "I won't keep you, then. I'll see you Saturday. Good-bye, Purdey."

Purdey smiled. "Good-bye, Steed."

Only when the door was closed, and Steed's footsteps had retreated, did Gambit turn away from the door. Just in time to watch "Purdey" shimmer before him and turn into someone else entirely.

VVVV

As Steed was pulling away, he noticed a figure out of the corner of his eye, walking up to the front of Gambit's building. When he turned to look at it full-on, he realised it was Purdey, a silhouette he'd recognise anywhere. Only it wasn't Purdey as he'd just seen her. This was another Purdey, wearing a completely different dress, and quite clearly only entering the building now. There was no way she would have been able to get all the way back down to the street level so quickly, not without passing him along the way, and he would have noticed. But if that was Purdey pushing the door to the building open, who was up in the flat with Gambit...?

Steed swung the car round and cursed when he realised he'd have to go around the block before he could park again. Something was very wrong here, and he was going to get to the bottom of it, come hell or high water. He only hoped he wasn't too late...


	2. Escape in Time

Purdey was whistling a jaunty little tune as she strode down the corridor toward Gambit's flat, coincidentally for the purpose of persuading the man to buy her lunch. The wonderful thing about Gambit is that he never needed much in the way of persuasion, not when for the cost of a good meal, he could monopolise her attention for an hour or more. If she were honest with herself, Purdey would admit that the food was only half of the experience, and the company was more than a pleasant diversion while she waited for her order to go through. But just now she was hungry, and her stomach was doing a very good job of distracting her brain from that sometimes-inconvenient fact.

Arriving at Gambit's door, Purdey was surprised to find that it was standing ever-so-slightly ajar, as though the owner had forgotten to close it all the way. Shrugging, she pushed it open and strode inside without knocking, meaning to give her colleague a good-natured lecture on home security. As a result, Gambit's unwelcome visitors had no warning, and Purdey walked straight into a scene out of a bad sci-fi movie.

Mike Gambit was backed into a corner, up against his bookshelf, by two people, a man and a woman.

"Mike Gambit..." Purdey began, then trailed off when the two strangers' heads whipped round. One, the man, was blond, serious, and decidedly unfriendly. The girl was also blonde, a little less serious, but definitely disturbing. She was a perfect copy of Purdey in every way, from the shape of the eyes to the curve of the jaw. Purdey's own, identical, jaw dropped. With the right haircut, the woman could be her twin.

"Purdey!" Gambit cried in warning, desperate for her to get away before it was too late, but Purdey was too dumbstruck by Sapphire's likeness to do much more than gape at the scene. By the time she woke up to the sound of his voice, Steel was on the move. Before Purdey had time to react, he'd clamped onto her arm with his vicelike grip, and proceeded to drag her to where Sapphire was keeping Gambit.

"Wait! Stop! Let go of me!" Purdey protested, struggling against Steel's hold, amazed at how unyielding it was. His hands seemed so cold, they drained the warmth from her body, and the more she struggled, the tighter the grip became. Eventually, she gave up, lest she break something in the process. He flung her gracelessly toward Gambit, and she slammed into the bookshelf before turning round hurriedly to eye the mysterious pair.

"Who's this?" Steel demanded of Gambit, pointing an accusing finger at Purdey.

"It's her," Sapphire supplied, moving serenely to the door to close it, properly this time. "The woman from whom I took my form. She's a friend of Gambit's, or so he told me."

Steel seemed uninterested by this latest piece of information. "What do we do with her?" he asked his partner.

"Let her go," Gambit said firmly, and Purdey turned confused eyes on him, eyes he forced himself to ignore. "Or undo this. Go back and make sure she never sees you."

Steel exchanged glances with Sapphire. Sapphire, can you risk taking time back?

No, not without attracting attention. And there's something about Gambit. Time bends around him in unnatural ways. It interferes with my powers.

Then the sooner we deal with him, the better. What do we do with the girl?

"Gambit, I always knew you were very...interested in me," Purdey said nervously, watching as Sapphire and Steel conducted a silent exchange without ever opening their mouths, "but I never thought you were quite obsessed enough to have me cloned."

"She's not a clone," Gambit corrected tersely, then remembered what Sapphire had told him about modelling herself on Purdey. "Well, not exactly."

"Gambit, what on earth is going on?" Purdey demanded, eyes flicking between her doppelganger and her colleague. "Who is she? And why does she look like me?"

Gambit was clawing at the bookshelves, looking for something and not finding it. "It's a long story, Purdey."

"Then you'd better start talking." Purdey eyed Sapphire and Steel uneasily. "I don't think they're going to give you much time to tell it."

"They're going to give us all the time in the world," Gambit growled distractedly. "That's the problem. Ah!" He pulled a book out, flipped frantically through the pages. "Look, Purdey, I can explain everything, but we need to get out of here first."

"Agreed," Purdey murmured. "I'll take her if you take him."

"That's not going to work," Gambit said with a surety he wished he didn't feel. "We're going to make a tactical retreat."

"But we can't possibly make a run for it. They'll be on us in a minute!"

"We're not going to run," Gambit muttered, staring at a page, then closing his eyes.

"Then how-?"

"Purdey." Gambit's eyes shot open and held hers intently. "Do you trust me?"

Purdey stared at him. "What?"

"Do you?"

"Yes, of course, but what-?"

"Then take my hand," Gambit ordered, holding it out. Purdey did so automatically, felt him clamp on with an iron grip. "And whatever you do, don't let go. I've never tried it with two before."

"Tried what? Mike!"

"This," Gambit murmured, and turned the record player, just within reach on the sideboard, on.

"Gamb-!" Purdey started, but she didn't get to finish in 1977.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Steed burst into the flat a moment later, he was greeted by nothing more than the dying notes of a record as it skittered to its conclusion. He stepped inside tentatively, eyes ever-vigilant for a surprise attack. But it didn't take long for him to realise that he was very much alone, and that Purdey, Gambit, and...well, the other Purdey were all long gone. He removed his bowler in annoyance, tossed it insolently on Gambit's bar, and went to lift the needle off the record before it did any damage. A quick glance revealed it was something by that Bowie fellow he'd heard so much about, but Gambit's musical tastes seemed rather beside the point at the moment, so he searched on. The furniture was undisturbed, but there was a strange, burnt smell in the air that he couldn't quite identify. A quick investigation revealed nothing smoking in the kitchen, no cigarettes smouldering in the ashtray, so he set that aside for a moment, searching for one last clue, something, anything that would tell him what had gone on here just moments before.

He almost missed it. The book was lying open on the floor, partly obscured by a chair. Steed moved quickly, knelt to retrieve it, taking care not to lose the page, just in case it proved important. A cursory examination told him it was a history tome, generously sprinkled with photos of Britain's long and illustrious past. The photo on this particular page depicted the London cityscape as it had been in the year 1927, a year that Steed recalled in the deepest, dustiest recesses of his memory. He inspected the photo for a moment, then moved to turn the page, but something stayed his hand. Returning to the photograph, he rescanned it, waiting for the trigger that had rung faint alarm bells in the back of his mind. There! Off to one side, dashing across a sidewalk, were two tiny figures. Steed squinted at the image, desperate to glean more detail. There was something inherently wrong about them, about their place in the world. Their shape was wrong for 1927, and Steed quickly realised it was their clothes, like nothing that would have been the fashion in 1927. Steed suddenly had a terrible sinking feeling...

Gambit's bookcase was behind him, and Steed whirled around and hastily searched the shelves for the magnifying glass he remembered being there on a previous visit, praying it hadn't been removed in the interim. He found it and snatched it up, hovered it over the figures until he could get a clearer image, and felt his heart stop.

Hand in hand, heads turned to look over shoulders, dashing for their lives as though the devil himself were chasing them, were Purdey and Gambit. Purdey and Gambit. In 1927. Steed looked up at the room, eyes wide and brow furrowed.

"This," he murmured to the empty space, "may take some time."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Purdey was running. She didn't know where or why, but she was. It was all very confusing. One moment, she'd been in Gambit's flat, trying to work out how to get away from the blonde man and her doppelganger while Gambit prattled on about things that made no sense at all and demanded she take his hand, and the next she was rushing through a strange black void that was hot and suffocating, and the instant her feet were back on solid ground, she was running, urged on by the insistent tug of Gambit's hand. He absolutely refused to let go, no matter how many times she yelled at him to stop, to slow down, to explain what was going on, but he ignored her, didn't even turn his head to acknowledge what she said, and so she found herself plunging down streets and through crowds, feeling half-blind even though she could see. The longer they ran, the more she had a sense that something else was wrong. They were in London, she knew that much, but there was something inherently wrong about it—the smells, the skyline, the people.

The people.

Purdey caught sight of a woman as they raced past, and for the first time consciously digested they way she looked. The clothes, the hair, the manner, like nothing that she would see in 1977, not outside of a fancy dress party or a historical recreation in any case. And as they went on, she realised they were all like that, every last one, the men, too. This really was too much. She needed answers, and she needed them now.

"Gambit!" she called insistently, and this time he seemed to pay attention, because he took a sharp turn and jerked her into an alley. She stumbled after him, nearly losing her balance as he released her hand and fell back against the brick wall, panting. Purdey's own shoulders were heaving, from running, or the absurdity of their situation, she didn't know, but she felt like she was suffocating either way. She cast a glance at the people passing by, visible through the alley's entrance, oblivious to their presence, still confusingly clad. "Mike Gambit, what on earth is going on?" she managed, as soon as she had enough of her breath back.

"It's a long story," came the gasped reply.

"Then you had better get started," Purdey shot back, turning her gaze back to his face, "because I'm feeling horribly impatient today—Mike, you're bleeding!"

"Am I?" The thin crimson stream was trickling from his nose, and he raised exploratory fingers that smudged the trail, regarded the evidence with grim annoyance. "Damn!"

"Oh, here. Let me," Purdey said with exasperated resignation, retrieving a handkerchief from his inside jacket pocket and setting about the task of wiping away the bloody smudge. Gambit moved to take it from her and do it himself, but she batted his hands away, and he dropped them resignedly, let her set to work. "I'll dab, you explain," she said firmly, tone unyielding and leaving no room for argument.

Gambit sighed and let his head rest gently against the soot-stained brick wall of the alley. "I wish I could," he muttered tiredly.

Purdey frowned, even as she continued her clean-up. She couldn't spot the injury that was the source of the blood, and came to the conclusion it was farther up his nose than a standard, fist-induced nosebleed. "You seemed to know those two...people, back at your flat. Surely you have some idea as to what's happened?"

Gambit laughed, a short, staccato burst. "I know exactly what's going on," he replied ruefully. "A little too well. But it's not the sort of thing you can sum up in a couple of paragraphs."

"Try me," Purdey shot back, gently twisting the end of the handkerchief and sending it tentatively up his left nostril, in hopes that it would staunch the bloodflow.

"It's pretty far-fetched," Gambit warned.

"You could say the same about most of our assignments," Purdey countered. "I came to terms with those without having some sort of psychological breakdown, didn't I?"

"The way your mind works, how could you tell?" Gambit quipped, and earned himself an elbow in the ribs for his troubles.

"I'm not in the mood, Mike Gambit," Purdey warned, shooting an arm out to point accusingly at the street, where the strangely-garbed people were going about their day, blissfully unaware that they were playing host to two new visitors. "We were in your flat, and then we were here, and 'here' is London, but the people look as though they've just stepped out of a period piece. I don't care if we've just crossed over to the seventh dimension. Just tell me what's happened!"

"You won't believe it," Gambit maintained.

"You don't know that until you've told me!" Purdey almost screamed in frustration.

"Fine," Gambit snapped back, nerves shot and temper frayed. "We've travelled back in time. There. Happy?"

Purdey's expression was a frozen mask of incredulity. "Travelled back in time," she repeated, faintly, as though speaking from a great distance.

"That's the short answer," Gambit confirmed. "You said you wouldn't have a problem with it."

Purdey bit her lip. "I may need the extended version," she admitted.

"Haven't you seen any science-fiction movies to go with your Walter Houston films?"

"Yes, but those were just films!" Purdey protested. "Not real life. People can't time travel in real life!"

"I can," Gambit said simply, and Purdey face crinkled in annoyance.

"You can't," Purdey countered, voice dripping with disbelief. "That's ridiculous."

It was Gambit's turn to point at the people. "Then how do you explain them?"

Purdey looked from him to the passersby, then back again, uneasily. "Well, there must be some logical explanation..."

"There is. I brought us both back in time," Gambit repeated.

Purdey shook her head. "No, it's got to be something else. We've been drugged. Or they brainwashed us. They did it to Tara King once. They convinced her she was a woman named Pandora living in 1915, and—"

"It's nothing like that," Gambit cut in. "And this is 1927, by the way."

"19-? You can't be serious! Have you gone mad?"

"Wish I had," Gambit said dryly.

Purdey was having difficulty coping. "But...how?"

"Good question. I've been trying to work that one out for the last twenty years. Let me know if you come up with anything."

Purdey added a frown to her generally-bemused countenance. "What do you mean?"

Gambit sighed. "I can travel through time, Purdey-girl. I brought us here."

"I wish you'd quit saying that."

"I would if it wasn't true," Gambit said flatly. "Look, I know it's a lot to absorb, but can we just take it as read and move on?"

Purdey regarded him and pondered this for a moment. Eventually, she said, "It would be easier to take you seriously if you didn't have a handkerchief stuck up your nose."

Gambit looked heavenward, but pulled the cloth free, inspected it, and was relieved to find that the blood on it was dry, and no fresh flow from his nose appeared to be forthcoming. He looked to Purdey. "Better?"

"Infinitely."

"Good. We don't have a lot of time, so let's get this over with. What do you want to know?"

"Well, assuming that you haven't spent one too many late nights at the disco, and that you really can travel through time, I suppose my first question is, why did you bring us here?"

"To get us away from Sapphire and Steel," Gambit said simply.

"Is that what they're called?" Purdey inquired.

"Apparently."

"Who are they?" Purdey wanted to know.

"I get the feeling that 'what are they?' is the better question," Gambit said darkly. "Sapphire described them as 'agents of time,' whatever that means. I think they're trying to keep the integrity of time intact. Somewhere along the line, they did something to royally piss off some of their mates, and now I think they're trying to get back in the good graces of the powers-that-be. They think if they bring in a real, live time traveller, like me, it'll buy them some goodwill. Apparently time travellers leave messy tears in time whenever they make a trip. If they have one to study, they might be able to fix the damage, or stop us, or something. They came for me. You just happened to walk in at the wrong time."

"But that's still what I don't understand," Purdey pressed. "How did you become a time-traveller? How were you able to bring us here?"

"I don't know," Gambit admitted truthfully. "If I did, I'd tell you. I just seemed to be born with it. I didn't even know I had the ability until I was in the Navy, and this woman could see it in me, somehow. The more I practiced, the better I got at it, and the farther back I could go. I did it for fun. Now I have a few eras I come back to regularly, lives I live. This year is one of them. It's a retreat I can use to get away and think."

Purdey shook her head in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me? Or Steed?"

Gambit smirked. "Why do you think? You hardly believe me now, and you're sitting here in 1927. If I told you in 1977, you'd have me locked up."

"I wouldn't!" Purdey protested, but the statement sounded less certain than she wanted it to. "Well, you could have tried. You could have brought me here."

"I didn't know I could, to be honest," Gambit admitted. "I've never travelled with someone before. I didn't know if it'd work, and I wasn't willing to put someone else's life at risk to find out. I wouldn't have tried it now if I hadn't been desperate and out of options. And I definitely wouldn't have risked you if I had a choice."

Purdey felt herself blush, and hoped Gambit wouldn't notice. The ghost of a smile on his lips told her he had. She decided to move things along before he said something about it. "Does that mean you can take us back, then?"

"Theoretically. The problem is, it puts a strain on me to travel. It's not too bad when it's just me—I know how to do it to expend the least amount of energy. But bringing you along, someone who's not a traveller, pulling you back through without letting you fall away or burn up in the process, that took the stuffing out of me."

"You mean...the nosebleed? That's what caused it?" Purdey realised, and Gambit's lips became a thin line.

"I can't travel again so soon," he told her. "Not if I don't want something major to rupture on the return trip."

Purdey felt a chill creep over her. "So we're stuck here?" she murmured. "Forever?"

Gambit gave her a crooked smile. "Come on, Purdey-girl. You know me better than that."

Purdey arched a sceptical eyebrow at him. "Do I?"

"You know you do," Gambit said knowingly, and Purdey felt the blush threaten again. "I'll work something out, but first we need to get in-character. Your skirt length's going to get you all the wrong kinds of attention here."

Purdey looked down at her modern clothes. "Perhaps this is my chance to set the trends. I'm sure you can't be much more fashionfoward than half a century."

"As much as I'd love to see you pull that off," Gambit said, "and I mean that in every possible way-" That earned him a glare, but he didn't care. "—you're going to have to settle with whatever they'll sell you in a three block radius." He pulled out his wallet and removed a card, handed it to Purdey. "There should be a bank just around the corner. There's an account set up in the name of Mr. and Mrs. O'Carroll. I set it up under a separate alias from my usual one, just in case, and I've never had a reason to use it until now. They've never seen Mrs. O'Carroll, so you shouldn't have a problem making a withdrawal."

Purdey looked up from studying the card. "Why don't you do it? It's your account."

Gambit's smile was even more crooked this time. "Because I'm feeling a bit fragile, Purdey-girl, and I think it'll be better for both of us if I just stay here for awhile." He saw her look of concern and waved her off before she could say anything. "Go, get the money, and then buy us some clothes. By the time you get back, I just might have found a way out of this mess."

Purdey eyed him carefully. "You're sure?"

"Positive. Don't you trust me?"

"To the ends of time, apparently," Purdey quipped, and set off to do as she was bid. Gambit grinned.


	3. Going Native

Purdey returned just under an hour later, by which point Gambit had managed to convince himself that he wasn't about to start bleeding from any other orifices. She swept back into the alley looking indecently pleased with herself, garbed in a long-sleeved, light-blue dress of an appropriate length of the era. She'd paired it with a rather fetching matching hat and overcoat, and shoes that would have been called Mary-Janes in their time, though he hadn't the foggiest idea if they were called that at this particular point in time. When she was near enough, she treated him to a twirl, to let him appreciate the full effect. Naturally, she looked fabulous in period costume, despite not being anywhere close to being born into the era. Despite how lousy he was feeling, Gambit allowed himself the luxury of a small smile at her performance.

"Have fun?" he hazarded.

"Some," Purdey admitted. "Though you should know better than to put a girl on deadline when she's clothes-shopping." She punctuated this point by throwing a bag of clothes at him, which he managed to catch without the indignity of it hitting him in the head. "As a time-traveller, I'd expect you to be in less of a hurry."

"I would be, if we weren't being chased across the centuries by your supernatural twin," Gambit pointed out, rummaging through the bag with interest. "Have any trouble at the bank?"

"No, they were more than happy to have me in and out as quickly as possible. I think my hemline was upsetting the more respectable patrons." She was beaming brightly, and Gambit knew she'd rather enjoyed being scandalous. "I think they must pity poor Mr. O'Carroll for marrying a radical."

"Well, he'd have to be mad too, wouldn't he?" Gambit quipped wickedly. "After all, he married you."

Purdey scrunched her face up at him, then pointed her chin at the bags. "Are those all right? I had to estimate your size."

"Then I'm flattered that the waist on the trousers is several inches below 'jumbo'," Gambit observed. "Should be all right, but there's only one way to find out." He looked meaningfully at Purdey. "Turn round. Time to stick with 1927 propriety."

Purdey crossed her arms defiantly. "Yes, but as we're married, I think propriety doesn't come into it. A woman is allowed to see her husband undressed, isn't she? Even in 1927."

"Right. And if a real Mr. O'Carroll comes along, you can explain that to him. Until then..." He swirled his index finger in an indication for her to turn round, and with a sigh, she complied. Gambit extracted the trousers and made the best he could of the cover of some garbage cans, praying no one would bother to look down the alley past Purdey.

"What's our next move?" Purdey asked as he changed.

"We have to get back to our own time," Gambit told her. "Or you back to 1977, at least. After that, I can work out what to do next."

"You're not planning on leaving me there and jumping off somewhere else, are you?" Purdey said in outraged alarm, wheeling around in the process.

Gambit, luckily, had just finished putting on his new trousers, but reacted instinctively to cover himself nonetheless. Purdey, to her credit, seemed uninterested in the state of his dress, blue eyes burning into his with a mixture of fear and annoyance. "Purdey, they're after me. I'm not safe wherever, or whenever, I choose to stay. Not for long, anyway. The least I can do is lead them away from you."

"That's my decision, isn't it?" Purdey shot back. "And anyway, I might be able to help you think of something. So could Steed."

"Purdey..."

"At the very least you could let us try," Purdey went on.

"Look, fine, I don't know what I'm going to do once we get back," Gambit placated. "We'll figure that out when we get there. Can you just...?"

Purdey turned back, but reluctantly, and with one last glance over her shoulder to let him know that this wasn't the end of this conversation. "How are we going to get back?" she inquired. "I thought you said that you couldn't risk taking us both back. I thought you wouldn't survive."

"And I won't, not if I try it again too soon," Gambit confirmed, working the buttons of his shirt. "But there are ways of making travelling easier. Boosting the signal, if you know what I mean."

"How?"

"Places that exist throughout time—buildings, that sort of thing. They have a sort of, I don't know, temporal pull, like their own personal timeline. You can move along it, like a wire stretched between two points."

"So if we can find a place that exists in our time, and 1927, it should be able to help you travel?" Purdey said slowly.

"That's the idea."

"It would have to be some place we could get in and out of in both times," Purdey pointed out. "Preferably where there were no witnesses to see us popping in and out."

"Or witnesses that wouldn't talk," Gambit amended, tugging on the cuffs of his new jacket. Purdey had estimated remarkably well. The suit fit perfectly.

Purdey turned round, somehow sensing he was finished. "You sound as though you already know where we should go."

"I think I do," Gambit allowed. "But we'll need money for the train and a cab. Do you have any left?"

Purdey grinned. "Mrs. O'Carroll was very, very liberal when she made her withdrawal."

Gambit grinned back. "I thought she might be. Hang onto it. There's no telling how much we'll need." He bundled up his discarded seventies-era clothes and stuffed them in the shopping bag. "I don't think we should make the trip today, though. I have a feeling trying to travel again in a few hours, even with a signal boost, would be a bad idea."

Purdey crossed her arms expectantly. "How long do you need to recover?" she wanted to know, and he could tell she was worried, for his welfare or their chances of getting home, he couldn't sure, but he liked to think it was a bit of both.

Gambit shrugged, because he honestly didn't know. "A day or two," he estimated. "At the very least. Ideally a bit more, but I don't know if we're going to get it. Who knows how long it'll take before Sapphire and Steel pick up my trail again."

Purdey shuddered at the thought. "What do we do in the meantime, then?"

"Lie low," Gambit asserted. "Keep our eyes open. Don't draw attention to ourselves. And try not to let me over-exert myself, or we'll both be in trouble."

"Oh, good. I don't have to worry about you trying to consummate our fake marriage, then," Purdey said brightly, to Gambit's slightly-weary expression. "Where are we going to hide? A boarding house? Or are we going to rough it and sleep in doorways like the rest of the dispossessed?"

"You can if you want," Gambit countered with a wink. "I'm sure you'd make lots of new friends. But that's more Terry Walton's line than mine. I've got some rented rooms not too far from here. Should do the trick until I'm fighting fit."

"Well, then." Purdey looped her arm through his. "Lead on, Mr. O'Carroll."

vvvvvvvvvv

The old house's floor creaked with every step, and the wallpaper in the hall was just the right side of shabby to still be serviceable, but the home of Gambit's rooms was at least clean, and from what Purdey could see of the other tenants, she didn't think she had to worry about being murdered in her bed. She followed Gambit to a door about midway down the hall, and was amazed when he took his present-day keyring from his pocket, and fitted an ancient key, sandwiched between the ones for his XJS and the Range Rover, into the lock. "Bank card in your wallet, key in your pocket," she murmured in his ear, as the locked clicked and the door swung open. "You've been hiding your other life in plain sight, haven't you, Mike Gambit?"

"Best place there is," Gambit agreed, stepping aside to let her enter first. "And you and Steed never noticed."

"Only because we weren't looking," Purdey pointed out.

"Are you looking now?"

"After today, I'm looking at everything. Very carefully. I half expect you to sprout wings and fly off into the great beyond."

"Maybe next week." Gambit followed her inside, and locked the door carefully behind them, then turned to regard Purdey. "Well, what do you think?"

Purdey was surveying the room with an evaluating eye. "Well, it's not going to give the Ritz a run for its money, is it?" She shot Gambit a sidelong glance. "Aren't you going to give me the tour?"

Gambit smirked, took a few steps inside, and indicated a pair of armchairs huddled in front of a fireplace. "Living room," he pronounced, then crossed the small space to the other end of the room, where a small stove, a length of counter, and a few cupboards marked out new territory. "Kitchen," Gambit proclaimed, then pointed at the small table and pair of chairs situated halfway in-between. "Dining room. Don't get it mixed up with the living room. If you're past the armchairs, you've gone too far."

Purdey chuckled in spite of herself. "When you said you had 'rooms', plural, I didn't expect to fill in the walls myself."

"I didn't say the tour was finished," Gambit pointed out, nodding at a door to his right. Purdey moved toward it, and they reached it at the same time. She opened it herself, and preceded him inside once again. "Bedroom," Gambit supplied, unnecessarily since the bed was the dominant feature of the tiny room. Only a nightstand and a small sink shared the cramped quarters. Gambit manoeuvred past her to another door, opened it to reveal a small closet containing a pair of spare hangers. "Closet. And we're the only ones on this floor lucky enough to have our own sink. The loo's down the hall, if you need to use it. And there's a bathtub down that way, too, though I'll warn you the hot water's temperamental, especially on a cold day, and the bloke across the hall uses most of it up most days, anyway, so I wouldn't hold out hope on that front."

Purdey tilted her head to regard him. "You really do know this place, don't you?" she commented. "You've actually lived here. You know all the little quirks."

Gambit shrugged. "It's no different than being in port for a few weeks on a ship. I've stayed here. I've eaten here, slept here. But I don't live here. It's not quite the same thing."

"Well, you've been here more than a day or two, that's for certain," Purdey pronounced, walking the room as best she could, edging her way around the bed. "Do you think anyone will trace us here?"

"No one mortal should," Gambit replied darkly. "But we're not dealing with people, are we? It's not like hiding from an enemy agent. A new name and a change of clothes aren't going to fool Sapphire a jot. I've left a trail, and she's going to pick it up sooner or later. It's not a matter of if she'll find us, it's when. All we can hope for is that it takes them awhile, long enough for me to get to my strength back."

Purdey looked at the thin of Gambit's mouth, and shivered. Suddenly the flat seemed terribly cold, and she had a sudden desire to leave and be out among ordinary people, even if they were fifty years out of her time.

"Well, no matter how long we're going to be here, there are some things we simply cannot avoid."

Gambit regarded her in mild bemusement. "Like what?"

"Food," Purdey said simply. "I need food. Now. I was coming to ask you to buy me lunch when all this happened. I don't see why you should get away with not feeding me just because all or our favourite restaurants won't open for another thirty years."

Gambit shook his head in disbelief. "How can you always be hungry?"

Purdey regarded him levelly, and said placidly, "How can you not be?"

"Right. I should have thought of that," Gambit sighed. "All right then, Purdey-girl. After all I've put you through today, the least I can do is buy you lunch."

vvvvvvvvvvv

"It's very strange," Purdey commented, when they were settled into a corner table in a cozy little tea room, with a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches between them.

Gambit froze with his teacup halfway to his lips. "Which part?" he asked wryly.

Purdey blinked at him for a moment, as though she didn't understand the question, then seemed to regain her train of thought. "Well, it all is, of course. But it was the city I was referring to. London. It looks different. It smells different. But somehow, strangely, it feels the same. The energy of it. The pulse. Deep down, it's the same city, no matter how many decades we've shaved off."

Gambit sipped his tea and nodded. "You've noticed it too, eh?"

Purdey looked surprised. "Do you understand what I mean?"

Gambit reached for a sandwich. "Sure. And I can tell you from experience, it doesn't change, no matter what decade it is. Every year I've visited, before or after the Blitz, London is London."

Purdey surveyed the plate of sandwiches, didn't find one to her liking, and then eyed up the one Gambit was just about to take a bite out of. He caught her eye, paused, then handed it over resignedly. Purdey took it with a pleased expression, and watched Gambit make a second choice with just a touch of smugness. "It's comforting in a way," she went on.

"What, the fact that I'm always guaranteed to pick the food you want, or the fact that I'm enough of an idiot to hand it over to you without a fight?"

"That's not comforting. That's convenient," Purdey distinguished, sucking a bit of mustard off her thumb in a not-entirely-innocent manner that just about made Gambit drop his second-choice sandwich on the floor. "I was talking about London. The fact that it's stayed the same over all these years. It's nice to know there are some constants, even if everything else shifts beneath us." She gazed out the window near their table with a small frown. "All the same, it's a shame to have lost all these buildings in the bombings. None of these people know what's coming in twelve years."

"No, and you can't tell them," Gambit said sharply. "We're tourists. We can look, not touch."

"I wasn't going to!" Purdey protested indignantly, but Gambit's steely gaze was unwavering.

"Maybe not intentionally," he hissed, giving the other tables a quick once-over to ensure that they weren't listening. "But unintentionally you just might, so watch what you say. Things have a habit of slipping out, and the last thing we need is to accidentally rewrite the timeline."

"All right," Purdey huffed, not pleased with his tone. "I'll be careful. But it does seem like a shame, not being able to do anything, knowing all these lives and the city could be spared."

"Maybe," Gambit allowed, softening a bit now that she seemed to understand. "Or maybe not. For all we know, we could end up leading the lot of them into something even worse. Better the devil you know..." He trailed off and took a bite of his sandwich, leaving Purdey to ponder that train of thought.

"I suppose," she said after a moment, "it would be a bit like going on vacation in a foreign country, and starting a coup if you don't approve of the politics."

Gambit grinned around a mouthful of sandwich. "Just about."

"Hmm." She gazed out the window once more. "Well, at least we can look," she said finally. "Do you think we can risk taking a walk? Take in the sights?"

"As long as we keep our eyes open," Gambit allowed, taking another bite of sandwich.

Purdey nodded. "Good. I'd like to get my bearings, too. I should learn the layout of the area, where the best shops are, which streets lead where, that sort of thing."

Gambit smirked over the rim of his tea cup. "What, thinking of going native?"

Purdey regarded him coolly. "Just because I'm in the wrong decade doesn't mean I have to be completely disoriented. And besides, if you don't take us back, I'll have to learn to live here, won't I?"

Gambit froze with the cup to his lips, and his shoulders slumped noticeably. "I'm sorry," he murmured, returning the cup to its saucer with a weary clank. "This shouldn't have happened. I never meant to get you involved."

"Gambit!" Purdey reached across the table to gently touch his forearm. "It was a joke. I don't blame you for what's happened. If you hadn't brought me here, I'd be in Sapphire and Steel's hands now." She smiled reassuringly. "And I suspect anywhere they would have taken me would be much less palatable than 1927."

The end of Gambit's mouth quirked up, but she could tell his eyes were troubled. "I'm still sorry," he sighed. "But I promise I'll fix it. I'll get you back. Somehow. I'm not going to let you live out the rest of your life stuck here."

"We'll come to that later," Purdey said simply, withdrawing her hand so she could pick up her own tea cup. "First things first. Finish your tea."


	4. Settling In

As promised, Gambit took Purdey on a tour of the immediate vicinity surrounding their accommodations. Purdey thanked heaven that her training had taught her how to quickly get her bearings in a unfamiliar location, well aware that Sapphire and Steel could be around any corner. If pursued, she couldn't afford to make a wrong turn.

Once she was satisfied she could at the very least avoid any dead ends, and could find her way back to the flat from any direction, they returned to Gambit's home away from home. The light shining in through the windows was dying as they entered, and Purdey fought to stifle a yawn, though not well enough to fool her partner.

"You're tired," he sympathised. "Don't blame you after the day you've had."

Purdey shook her head, blinking away her heavy lids. "I'm all right."

"No, you're not," Gambit contradicted knowingly, disappearing into the bedroom. "You should get some sleep, though you'll probably want a bath first." He re-emerged with a towel in hand, handed it to her. "Like I said, the hot water's in short supply, so you might want to go in now, beat the rush."

Purdey took the towel. "What about you?"

Gambit grinned. "It's 1927. Ladies first."

"How refreshing," Purdey said brightly. "Perhaps you ought to spend more time here. You could become a whole new man."

"I was a whole new man," Gambit reminded wryly. "But his name was Frederick Norton, and I can't risk playing him anymore, so you're stuck with me."

"Pity," Purdey lamented, though her eyes told him she didn't mean it. "Well, I won't be long."

Gambit smiled at her as she left, waited until the door was closed to retreat to the bedroom. He opened the tiny closet, and faced the mirror hung inside the door. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged off his jacket, and started to unbutton his shirt.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bathroom wasn't glamourous by any stretch of the imagination, but the door locked, and at least it was clean, so Purdey wasn't about to complain. She folded the towel and set it on a chair tucked in the corner, then perched on the corner of the tub, put the plug in, and turned the taps on. She watched as the water flowed in, the swirling currents soothing, the rush of the tap drowning out the sounds of 1927 life filtering in from outside, and for a moment she forgot when she was. It was only when she got up, looked in the mirror above the sink, and caught sight of her reflection clad in period costume, that she was reminded of the enormity of it all. She fought down a brief burst of panic. That wouldn't do anyone any good. All the same, she stripped the foreign garments off quickly, then bent to swirl the water in the tub, testing the temperature. Mindful of the other tenants, she shut the water off when the tub was only half full. She didn't want to make enemies of the neighbours by using all the hot water, and there was no way of knowing how long she would be trapped in an era that was not her own.

It was strange, Purdey mused, as she lowered herself into the water. This morning, she'd woken up in 1977. Tonight, she was going to go to sleep in 1927. She was breathing 1927 air, soaking in 1927 water. She could accept it until she really thought about it, and then her mind rebelled wildly at the notion. "Mike Gambit, you do put me in the most disconcerting situations sometimes," she said out loud, though without malice, before submerging herself up to her nose.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Purdey walked back into the bedroom after her bath, clothes clinging uncomfortably to her damp skin, she received more of an eyeful than she intended. "Oh, sorry!" she apologised, the second she laid eyes on Gambit's naked back, but by the time he'd whirled round, prurience had turned to concern. The light in the bedroom was poor, but not dim enough to hide the legion of bruises marring his torso. "Gambit, what happened?"

"Nothing," Gambit said shortly, snatching his shirt off the bed and moving to put it on. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Nothing?" Purdey exclaimed incredulously, throwing the towel on the bad and striding over to him. She took hold of one of his arms before he could get the shirt on, turned it this way and that. "Gambit, they're everywhere. I've seen you with fewer bruises after a beating." She circled him once, confirming that the pattern was repeated all the way around, back to stomach, until she was facing him once again. "It's the travelling, isn't it? It wasn't only the nosebleed. It's caused damage everywhere." She pursed her lips grimly. "Why didn't you say something? You might be bleeding internally!"

"If I was, I'd be dead by now," Gambit countered, pulling the shirt on and doing the buttons up hurriedly. "Anyway, it's none of your business. It's my body, not yours."

"It certainly is my concern," Purdey shot back. "If you die, I'll be trapped here, and that won't do either of us much good, will it?" She pushed her fringe back in exasperation. "If coming here caused that much damage, how on earth are you going to survive another trip back? If you tried now—"

"Then it's a good thing I don't have to try now, isn't it?" Gambit cut in gruffly, then immediately regretted his tone. He sighed and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to massage away a growing headache. "Sorry. I...let's get some sleep, and figure it out in the morning, okay?"

Purdey's expression softened in turn. It had been a trying day for both of them, and she realised she was forgetting that. "Yes, all right," she agreed. "I left the water in the bath." Gambit removed his hands and regarded her with bemusement. "You said there wasn't much hot water," she elaborated, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. "So I left mine in. It's still quite warm, so you shouldn't have to worry about running out. If you don't mind soaking in all the dust I picked up today, that is."

Gambit's mouth quirked up at one side. It was a tired smile, but a welcome one. "You're not that dirty, Purdey," he opined. "Though I hope I can fix that, one of these days."

"Yes, well, you'll need a bit more than a day in 1927 to achieve that," Purdey said pertly, though she couldn't help her mouth turning up at the sides.

"I'll bear that in mind." He crossed to the chest of drawers, opened the top one. "I have these," he told Purdey, picking up a pair of striped pajamas for her to see. "Just the one pair. I don't have many guests, so they'll have to do. May be a bit big on you, but it's too late to buy new ones for the night."

Purdey eyed the garments appraisingly, took the shirt from him and let gravity unfold it. "I'll take the top," she decided. "It's more than long enough for a night-shirt. You can have the bottoms. We'll spare the other occupants receiving an eyeful."

"You're sure?"

"Positive." Purdey laid the garment on the bed, then turned to him with crossed arms. "Go on, have your bath. Hurry up before someone else gets to the water before you. I'll change while you're gone."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gambit locked the bathroom door securely behind him, lay his towel and the pajama bottoms on the chair, then went to the bath. A quick test of the water revealed that Purdey was, indeed, correct—it was still warm, and looked barely used. Gambit stripped off and sighed as the bruises were revealed on his legs as well. He knew he was lucky he hadn't burst an artery, but he had a feeling that luck wouldn't last if he had to travel again soon. If he had a few days, a week ideally, he thought he just might be able to manage it. But he knew the likelihood of Sapphire and Steel being that accommodating was low indeed.

He faced himself in the bathroom mirror, turned the sink tap to cold, and splashed his face a few times, taking comfort in the bracing shock of the cold that told him he was alive. Only then did he raise his head, locked eyes with his reflection as water dripped down his face. "This is your mess," he told himself. "Whatever happens, you get her back safe. No matter what it costs."

Promise made, he allowed himself the luxury of the bath. For all he knew, it could be his last.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he returned, Purdey was sitting cross-legged on the bed, hair damp and tousled, waiting for him expectantly. "I thought you might be asleep by now," he said, laying his clothes in one the wardrobe drawers.

"Well, I couldn't very well go to bed until I knew which side you'd be taking," Purdey pointed out. "Otherwise you might sit on me in the dark. So which is it? Left or right?"

Gambit allowed himself a small smile. That was a question he'd been waiting to hear for years, but it had been asked in far from the right context. "Neither. I'm taking a chair."

Purdey pulled a face. "You're not going to get any sleep that way," she argued. "You'll be horribly uncomfortable, especially with all those bruises."

"I'll be all right. I've slept in worse."

"I'm sure you have, but that's not the problem. You're never going to heal if you don't sleep. And if you don't heal, we can't get home, and that's not going to help either of us. So choose." She pointed at opposite sides of the bed, crossing her arms over one another in the process. "Left or right?"

Gambit sighed, knowing when he'd been beaten. "Right," he decided. "Look, are you sure you're okay with this?"

Purdey was already climbing under the covers. "Why not? Even if you do try anything, which I very much doubt, all I have to do is poke you in one of your bruises and you'll be gone in an instant. I'm more concerned about whether you'll monopolise the covers and how loud you'll snore."

"I don't snore," Gambit defended, switching off the light and pulling back the covers to settle in beside her, then added, "that loud."

"So the covers are what I need to look out for, then," Purdey said brightly, and even in the dark, he could sense her grin. They lay in silence for a moment. Then she spoke again. "I know after everything that's happened I should be tired, but I don't even want to close my eyes." She paused and considered. "Perhaps I'm suffering from time-travel lag." When Gambit turned his head to regard her, she explained. "Like jet lag, but for people crossing decades instead of time zones."

Gambit chuckled at the notion. "Wouldn't surprise me. Once you get past the time travel, anything's possible."

"What's the farthest back you've ever gone?" Purdey wanted to know, turning on her side to face him, and propping herself up on her elbow.

Gambit made a moué and thought back. "Sometime in the 1700s, I think. But I don't really like going too far back. The language changes, and the chances of someone noticing you're out of place go up, so I try to avoid it, stick to eras closer to ours." He shifted onto his own side to face her. "It's like that old cliché. The past is a foreign country, and the further back you go, the fewer touchstones you have. You're too busy worrying about not offending someone and getting thrown in prison to actually enjoy yourself."

"I suppose," Purdey agreed. "No one would ever mistake you for a Roman Centurion, anyway."

"Just as well. We didn't have Latin at my school," Gambit quipped, and Purdey giggled.

"What about the future, then? You must have gone there."

"Not as often as you'd think," Gambit told her.

Purdey was disbelieving. "Oh, come on. You must want to see where you are in the future?"

"Not really," Gambit countered. "What if I went looking and found out I die a year from now, or five years, or ten? Or worse, what if I found out how you died? Or Steed? What if I tried to stop it, and ended up making it happen? I don't think I could live with that." He shook his head. "It sounds like a great opportunity. Go forward and figure out how to win the Irish Sweepstakes. But there are costs, things we were never meant to know about. I do it for fun, Purdey. For an escape. If I found out something life-changing, I don't want to live out the rest of my life trying to stop something from happening. That wouldn't be living. That'd be slavery." He met her eyes. "Do you understand?"

"I suppose," Purdey allowed, though she looked rather disappointed. "But I was rather hoping for some good stories, a flying car or two."

Gambit grinned. "Sorry, Purdey-girl. The few times I have gone forward, there wasn't a single flying car to be found."

"Pity," Purdey lamented, pondering her next question. "Well, have I ever met another one of you, then? From the past? Or the future?"

"No-oo..." Gambit replied carefully, as though holding something back.

Purdey regarded him suspiciously. "What does that mean?"

Gambit turned his head and shot her a look. "It means no, you've never met me out of sequence," he said firmly, brooking no argument.

"All right, all right," Purdey pulled a face at his tone. "No need to get tetchy. Have you ever met yourself, then? Or are you going to bite my head off for asking that as well?"

Gambit sighed and looked repentant for snapping at her. "Now that I have done," he confided, letting a smile play over his lips, hoping to make up for being short with her. Purdey forgave him and grinned back, because this was a story she definitely wanted to hear.

"What was it like?"

"Embarrassing," Gambit admitted. "Both times. I forgot my keys to this flat." He indicated their current surroundings. "I meant to jump back to the time when I'd left, but I miscalculated, and, well..." He shrugged. "I ended up three months into the future. I was just lucky I was the only one in the flat at the time, but I still gave myself a start popping out of thin air. Spilt the coffee all over the carpet."

Purdey laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth did you say to future you?"

"Not much," Gambit admitted. "I didn't want to know anything that had happened, or even when it was, and since he was me, he didn't want to tell me, either. I explained I'd gotten it wrong, he—I—understood, and there were a couple of painful minutes while I tried to reorient myself again. It was the most awkward silence I've ever had to live through. And I had to do it twice, without knowing when past me was going to pop up again. I had a rough estimate, but still, it was hell waiting for it to happen." He rubbed his face anxiously. "I don't know which was worse: knowing it was coming up one day, or being blind-sided when it actually happened."

Purdey whistled softly. "Two Gambits," she ruminated. "The mind races."

Gambit peeked at her through his fingers. "Should I be flattered or terrified by what you're thinking?" he inquired, voice muffled by his palm.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Purdey said mysteriously, patting him comfortingly on the shoulder. "I think I can sleep now. I may have some very interesting dreams."

"Hmph." Gambit pulled the covers up as though suddenly very conscious of his bare chest.

Purdey grinned. "Don't tell me you're jealous of yourself, Mike Gambit? That would be a new low, even for you."

"I thought you said you weren't going to tell me what you were thinking," Gambit grumbled.

"I'm not," Purdey agreed cheerfully. "But I'm sure, if you think hard enough, you'll be able to come up with lots of very good guesses." And with that, she turned over, away from him, but Gambit felt the bed tremble with suppressed laughter for at least a quarter of an hour after that.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gambit awoke the next morning, and fought a brief burst of panic when he realised Purdey was no longer in the bed. He sat bolt upright, eyes scanning the room for any sign of the girl. "Purdey?" he called, trying to reassure himself that he would have woken up had Sapphire or Steel found their way into the room and taken Purdey, but given that the extent of their powers was still more or less unknown to him, it wasn't something he could rule out. As a result, he was more than a little relieved when Purdey appeared in the doorway, fully dressed and carefully folding a wad of notes she'd withdrawn from the bank the previous day.

"No need to shout. I was only in the next room," she chastised, and Gambit flopped back on the bed with relief.

"I thought you'd been grabbed," he confessed to the ceiling, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"I was," Purdey told him, but when his head snapped up in surprise, she added, "You tried to cuddle at least twice last night. I can tell you don't always sleep alone." Her expression was amused but clearly unsurprised.

"Did I?" He honestly couldn't remember anything after their conversation. He'd fallen asleep shortly after, and slept like the proverbial dead. "Sorry. If I, uh, grabbed anything I shouldn't have, I can honestly say I wasn't awake when it happened."

Purdey smirked at his discomfort, but uncharacteristically let him off the hook. "You didn't. You thrashed around a lot. I think you subconsciously wanted to make sure I was still there." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "It was rather tricky trying to get up to use the loo, though."

Gambit's laugh was one of relief, and released some of his pent-up tension. "Sorry," he repeated, glad that he hadn't unconsciously done anything that would land him in Purdey's bad books, which was the last thing he needed at the moment. He nodded at the money in her hand. "Going shopping?"

"We need breakfast," Purdey asserted. "I've had a look your stores, which are a bit uninspiring, so I thought I'd go and get us some supplies. The kitchen's a bit basic, but I think I can make a decent omelette."

Gambit shook his head in mild disbelief, a smile stretching his features. Classic Purdey. Her first thought upon waking up fifty years in the past was not born of concern for her predicament, but for her appetite. There was something reassuring about that.

"Anything you have a particular craving for?" Purdey wanted to know, stashing the notes in a pocket. "Or is it up to the chef's discretion?"

"Anything," Gambit told her, realising he was feeling a bit peckish himself. "Anything except marshmallows."

Purdey pouted. "You would say that," she grumbled. "That was going to be the main ingredient."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Gambit asked wryly. "I'll get dressed in the meantime. Where are you going?"

"Just around the corner."

Gambit nodded, pushing back the blankets and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Keep an eye open, just in case."

Purdey nodded and departed with a smile. Gambit stretched out the stiffness caused by the less-than-forgiving mattress, and then set about examining his bruises in the light of day.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Purdey already had one bag of groceries in hand, and had drifted to another grocer with the intent of acquiring a second, when a flash of blue caught the corner of her eye. She immediately ducked behind a small stall selling fruit, peering over the apples in search of the source. What she saw made her blood run cold.

It was her. Or rather, the woman who looked like her, if she grew her hair out, resplendent in blue, with a fair-haired man by her side. Sapphire and Steel, unquestionably. And the way their heads turned this way and that as they scanned the early morning crowd of shoppers told her they were looking for something. Or someone.

Purdey swallowed hard, mentally mapped out her immediate surroundings. Sapphire and Steel were in the way of her direct route back to Gambit's flat, but she could take a roundabout route and avoid them, though it would take longer. She only hoped she could reach Gambit before they did.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Purdey clattered up the stairs two at a time, but as she approached the flat door, she forced her breathing to slow down, and approached it silently. She put an ear to the door, listened carefully for the telltale sounds of multiple occupants, or any other sign that Gambit wasn't alone. She heard nothing. Slowly, carefully, she opened the door, peering inside. She was just in time to catch Gambit coming out the bedroom, dressed now and adjusting his cuffs. Quickly she ducked inside, closing the door behind her.

Gambit looked up at her in surprise. "Back already? From grocery shopping? I had you down for another half hour at least."

Purdey ignored the teasing. "I saw them," she hissed urgently, and Gambit snapped to attention immediately.

"Who?" The single word was terse and clipped.

"Sapphire and Steel, of course," Purdey said impatiently, moving to put her groceries on the table. "Who else? They were at the market."

"You're sure it was them?"

Purdey treated him to a glare. "She looks exactly like me," she reminded. "I think I know my own face when I see it. And Steel's with her as well."

Gambit swore, jaw working madly. "Did they see you?"

"No, but they must know we're here, somewhere. They were looking."

"Of course they were." Gambit snatched up the last of the money off the table, where Purdey had left it. "There's nothing for it, then. We have to go, try to travel back to our own time."

"In your condition?" Purdey exclaimed. "You'll kill us both. You haven't even had 24 hours to recover."

"We don't have a choice," Gambit shot back. "Besides, if I can boost the signal using the location, it might make it easier. Either way, we have to try, because I have the feeling our chances of surviving won't be any better if Sapphire and Steel get ahold of us."

"Can't we just relocate? Abandon the flat?"

"Where we are isn't the problem. It's when," Gambit contradicted. "If they've figured out which year we escaped to, it won't be hard for them to get a fix. They don't need to walk, remember. They can pop up anywhere. If we keep moving, it might throw them off for awhile, but we can't move forever, and I have the feeling that they don't need to stop and rest like we do." He set his mouth in a thin line. "No, Purdey. This is our only chance. The longer we stand here arguing about it, the worse our chances are."

Purdey opened her mouth to protest, but realised he was right. Much as she hated to admit it, they were painfully low on options. "How do we get there?" she asked instead, and Gambit relaxed visibly when he saw she was no longer going to argue.

"Train," he said simply, catching hold of her arm and ushering her out.


	5. John

“This is ridiculous,” Purdey muttered, as Gambit knocked on the front door of the manor house which, one day, would form the centre of Steed’s stud farm. “Even if we do manage to make it inside, which is impossible in itself, no one in their right mind is going to let us poke around and have the run of the place. No one will leave you alone long enough to make a jump.”

“Someone might,” Gambit replied cryptically. “It’s our best bet. We know when we reappear at the other end, we’ll be on safe ground, and that’s worth the trouble. Besides, I think we might have some help on the inside.”

“Oh?” Purdey regarded him expectantly. “Is there some grand scheme at work, something you’re not telling me?”

Gambit shrugged jauntily. “Yes and no. I just remembered a few useful facts.”

“Such as?”

“Well, this house for a start. Did you know Steed inherited it from his Auntie Penelope?”

“The one who baked rock cakes? Yes, of course. Everyone knows that.” Purdey looked unimpressed.

“True. But not everyone knows why.”

“Because she was his favourite, presumably.”

“And why was that?” Gambit was enjoying having the upper hand, and it was getting on Purdey’s nerves.

“Maybe because he didn’t ask her silly questions,” Purdey snapped.

“Good guess, but no.” Gambit refused to be fazed by her mood. “It was because, years ago, every summer around this time, she had a visitor.”

Purdey frowned. “A visitor? What sort of visitor?”

It was then that the door opened, and a small voice said, “Hello, are you here to see Auntie?”

Purdey froze, then turned her head, slowly, ever-so-slowly, to regard the small boy standing on the threshold, dwarfed by the impossibly huge door, and staring at them with inquisitive grey eyes. The face was round and slightly chubby, and topped by waves of glossy, jet black hair. Purdey felt her heart stop.

Gambit also seemed a touch taken aback, but recovered himself quickly, and managed a friendly smile at the boy. “We’re not, as it happens. Can you tell us your name?”

The boy looked from one to the other warily, sizing them up to see if they were a threat, but then seemed to decide they were all right, a decision made on pure instinct. It was to be the first of many.

“I’m John,” he informed, standing a little straighter. “John Steed.”

Purdey made a little strangled noise that sounded somewhere between a gasp and a scream. Gambit arched an ironic eyebrow at her. “1927,” he reminded her. “Do the math, and...”

“Five,” Purdey finished, in a voice barely above a whisper. “He’s five.”

Little John regarded her with bemusement. “How do you know?” he inquired.

“We’re...friends of the family,” Gambit told him, which wasn’t really a lie. They would be, after a fashion. In another fifty years or so. “Listen, we came for a visit a week or so ago. We, uh, left something behind, by accident, so we thought we’d come and get it.”

“Oh.” John seemed unimpressed by this, clearly hoping that the strangers would prove more interesting than something as trifling as a lost umbrella, or what have you. “I’ll go ask Auntie Penelope.”

“No!” Gambit almost barked, then realised that was the wrong way to go about persuading the child, and tried again, a little more calmly. “No, there’s no reason to bother your auntie. We’ll just come in and look for it ourselves, if that’s all right with you.”

John regarded them for another moment, eyeing them up appraisingly. “All right,” he allowed. “I suppose.”

Gambit smiled broadly. “Thanks,” he told the boy, reaching out a hand for a friendly shake. “The name’s O’Carroll, by the way.” 

John took it, shook it with remarkable poise. “Who’s she?” he wanted to know, indicating Purdey, who was still frozen to the spot and watching the scene unfold with glazed eyes.

“That’s Mrs. O’ Carroll,” Gambit said with a grin, and Purdey snapped out of her reverie long enough to glare at him. “Don’t mind her. She over-exerted herself on the train.”

“Don’t you wish?” she snapped back, moving to join them. “Ste—John, listen, I understand if this is all a bit much for you. We are strangers, after all, so if you like, you can stay with your Auntie while we look.”

Little John scrunched up his nose. “Auntie Penelope’s making rock cakes. I think I’d rather come with you.”

“Smart kid,” Gambit observed, walking past him into the entryway. “Now we know he came by it honestly.”

Purdey followed, leaving John to close the door and join them. “Where was it, then?” he inquired.

“Hmm?” Gambit said distractedly. “Where was what?”

“Whatever it was you lost. Where did you lose it?” John explained patiently. “What did you lose? You never said.”

“Didn’t I?” Gambit was scanning the house, trying to work out which part of the house would grant him the strongest connection. “Oh, uh, it was a cufflink. Wasn’t it, Mrs. O’Carroll?”

Purdey pursed her lips at the name, but played along nonetheless. “That’s right. A cufflink. He’s terrible about those sorts of things. Always leaving his clothes strewn about the place. It’s no wonder he loses things.”

“I always put my cufflinks away as soon as I’ve finished wearing them,” John said proudly. “Especially the ones mum gave me for my last birthday.”

Purdey smiled fondly at him. “I’m sure you do,” she praised, and Gambit resisted to the urge to roll his eyes. Five years old, and he was still charming Purdey, his, admittedly fake, wife, but little John didn’t know that. And right in front of him, too!

“Yes, well, while you two criticise my housekeeping skills, I’ll just go poke around in the living room, shall I?” He moved to start off down the hall, but Purdey’s hand was suddenly on his elbow, and he turned to meet her fierce blue eyes.

“Are you leaving me to babysit?” Purdey exclaimed through hissed teeth, outraged.

“Well, you always did like hanging around Steed,” Gambit said frankly. “And the age gap’s still more or less the same, just flipped the other way. I’m sure you’ll hit it off in no time.”

Purdey pulled a face, then froze as she did the math. “Oh dear...” she murmured.

Gambit left her to ponder that revelation, and made for the living room. It had room to manoeuvre, just in case he needed it, fit with their cover story, and it didn’t require them to venture any further into the house than they needed to. If this went wrong, they were going to have to get out of here quickly, before Auntie Penelope caught on and called the police.

To his relief, the living room looked much the same as it did in their time. Even some of the furniture was recognisable, though arranged in a different configuration. Still, it was close enough that the time links would prove strong, and he wasn’t going to have to completely rearrange the place in order to avoid landing on some antique when they popped up in the future. If they made it...

Purdey had recovered enough to join him now, with little John trailing behind, expression a mix of curiousity and suspicion. “Well...?” she inquired, looking vaguely around the room, as if in search of a convenient time portal or the like. “Anything?”

Gambit closed his eyes and concentrated, felt rather than saw the corridors of time open behind his lids, stretching out in all directions, only to end in yawning abysses. He felt around, mentally, for the strands, the timelines, that connected this place to its counterpart in 1977. It was difficult. This house was already old, even in this time, and there was a lot of what he’d labelled ‘time build-up’ around it as a result, making a clear reading difficult. Sapphire probably had a more sophisticated term for it, but he wasn’t about to wait around for the opportunity to ask her what it was. But despite the static of the build-up, he managed to isolate the strand he needed, far away in the future, and trace it back to what was his present. Back to 1927.

“What are you doing?”

The question shattered his concentration, and when he opened his eyes, he found little John staring up at him inquisitively. He’d sort of forgotten about him, had hoped at some level that he’d leave them to work this out. But this was Steed, after all, and Steed didn’t leave a mystery alone until he’d cracked it. That was probably just as true now, even if the boy was still in short trousers.

“I was just...retracing my movements,” Gambit told the boy, which wasn’t really a lie. The fact that he was scanning 50 years instead of a couple of hours of cocktails with Penelope Steed was just a detail, a rather major one, but a detail nonetheless. “You know, trying to work out where I’ve been.”

“So you can find the cufflink?” little John hazarded, with a healthy dose of scepticism. 

“Yes,” Gambit confirmed, wishing little John’s grey eyes weren’t fixed on him in such a way that he swore the little boy could look straight into his soul.

“And did you find it?” Purdey wanted to know, and Gambit tore his gaze away from little John and met hers. “I mean,” she amended, clearly feeling little John’s eyes transfer themselves to her, “do you know where to look?”

“Yeah,” Gambit murmured, eyes boring into hers, “I think so.”

“Where?” little John wanted to know, and Gambit glanced back at the boy. He didn’t want him to see this, not if he could help it. But little John was unlikely to leave the room, not even to fetch his auntie. He searched for a solution, had one idea occur to him. With any luck, it might work.

“I think it might have fallen behind the couch,” Gambit told little John. “You’re small enough to squeeze back there. Think you could have a look?”

Little John was regarding them with suspicion, but relented. “All right...” he allowed. “I’ll look.”

As little John went to the couch and got down onto his knees, Gambit took Purdey’s hand and held on tight. “Get ready...” he said softly.

Purdey gripped his hand harder, and nodded. “Ready.”

Gambit waited until little John’s head disappeared behind the couch, and then shut his eyes and focussed. Music usually helped him get in the zone, but there was no time to crank up the gramophone in the corner. They had to go now. They might not get another chance.

“I don’t see anything...” little John was saying as he pulled back from behind the piece of furniture. “I...” The words died on his lips as a strange, sucking noise reached his ears, and when he whirled round, there was only a dying flash of light where the two strangers had been. A sharp, acrid burning smell hung in the air, as little John sat, frozen, desperately trying to make sense of the last few minutes of his young life.


	6. Caught Up

In 1977, a scant two hours had passed since Steed had burst into Gambit's flat, and found the book. Now he was back at the stud farm, book lying open on his desk to the page with the photo of the two figures. Scattered around it were various magnifying glasses and other tools he had made use of over the years to identify doctored photos, but none of them had managed to out the photo as a fake. Steed pushed his chair back irritably, and stood to pace the living room. He hadn't called in Purdey and Gambit's disappearance as of yet. He still wasn't entirely certain they had disappeared. There weren't any real signs of a struggle in the flat, except for the book on the floor, and that wasn't enough to hang his bowler on. There was the second Purdey, but he had no idea who she could be working for, or if she had an accomplice. There was that strange burnt smell in Gambit's flat, perhaps the remnants of some sort of gas? Had the fake Purdey gassed them? But if she had, how had she managed to move the bodies so quickly, and without running into Steed? And what was the significance of the photo? Those questions aside, there was something else niggling in the back of Steed's mind, something he couldn't recall, but which made him hesitant to involve anyone else from the Ministry. If only he could remember what it was...

Steed turned and was about to return to his desk when he noticed a vibration in the air, a tingling. Then, before his very eyes, there was a brief flash of light, and two figures winked into existence, collapsing untidily onto his carpet with a solid 'thud.' Steed stood, rooted to the spot, uncharacteristically immobilised with shock. For a moment, neither he nor the figures moved. They had fallen with their arms covering their faces, so he couldn't identify them, but there was something strangely familiar about both. The air was sizzling gently, and the room smelt as though someone had been using it for indoor barbecuing. Before he could decide whether he should arm himself, or move to assist them, one of the figures groaned and shifted, and a blonde head slowly raised itself from the carpet. Steed watched its progress with disbelieving eyes. "Purdey...?" he hazarded.

Purdey squinted at him with unfocussed eyes. "Steed...?" she asked thickly, trying to shake off the muzziness in her skull. Then, as the reality of the situation set in, she repeated, a little more clearly, "Steed?"

"Yes," Steed confirmed, setting his shock aside in favour of assisting his colleague. There would be time for explanations later. Purdey looked like she needed help. "Is that Gambit?"

Purdey glanced over at the still-motionless body beside her. "Yes!" she yelped in alarm, pulling herself to her knees and rolling her lifeless colleague over. Steed saw Gambit's head loll toward him, revealing a face marred with blood. Purdey bent over him, desperately trying to revive him. "Mike Gambit, don't you dare!" she hissed, unbuttoning his collar and checking for a pulse. Steed hurried over to assist, but Purdey twisted round and thrust out a halting hand. "Don't touch us!" she ordered, expression deadly serious. Even though Gambit had never mentioned the heat generated by the friction of falling through time, she could sense it radiating off her body, knew instinctively that to touch someone who hadn't made a similar journey could prove fatal. "We'll burn you."

"Burn me?" Steed repeated, confused but doing as she asked. He kept a safe distance a pace or two from his colleagues, desperately wishing he could help. Gambit didn't look good at all. "Should I call an ambulance?" he asked Purdey.

"I...I don't know," Purdey admitted. Gambit's pulse was faint, but it was there. She looked at his chest, and could see he was breathing shallowly, but he was bleeding from his nose and mouth now, and who knew where else internally. But who knew what the rules were with time travellers. Gambit had been injured before, lots of times, and his...abilities had never seemed to make a difference to his care. But then again, he hadn't travelled recently when that happened. Who knew what the rules were when it came to injuries sustained while travelling? Maybe Gambit didn't even know himself.

"Purdey..." Steed's voice was calm and careful, but Purdey knew she'd have to tell him something, soon, especially if she was going to help Mike. "I realise you're in a, not inconsiderable, state of distress, but if I'm going to help you, I think you had better give me some sort of explanation."

Purdey bit her lip. How did one go about explaining the whole mad business without getting committed in the process? Suddenly, she saw Gambit's point about keeping it a secret. But this was John Steed, a man who'd seen enough impossible things to last several lifetimes. After giant rats and man-eating plants from space, it was just a short jump to time-travel, wasn't it? She decided to use the quick, to-the-point method Gambit had used with her. She took a deep breath and said, "Gambit's a time-traveller."

Steed, to his credit, didn't even blink. The gaze he'd levelled on her remained steady. "A time-traveller," he repeated tonelessly. "And you are...?"

"I'm not a time-traveller," Purdey said quickly. "Gambit brought me with him."

"To what end?" The agent in Steed had taken over, keeping his brain too busy trying to gather the facts to notice how mad they were.

"To escape," Purdey explained. "There were two, well, he called them time agents, after him, and I sort of interrupted them. One of them looked like me," she added, rather lamely.

But something flickered behind Steed's eyes. "Yes," he murmured. "One did."

Purdey frowned, but before she could ask what he meant, Gambit gasped loudly, and jerked halfway upright. Purdey grabbed his shoulders before he could fall back again. "Mike!" she exclaimed, forcing his half-delirious eyes to meet her own. "Mike, it's all right. You brought us back."

"Back?" Gambit repeated, the word coming out as a wheeze. Purdey nodded vigourously.

"Yes, back. Look, Steed's here." She turned his head so he could see the senior agent. The moment he did, Gambit closed his eyes and visibly relaxed. But Steed took a step back at the sight of the pair of them huddled side by side. For the first time, he noticed their period costume. He looked stricken.

"Steed?" Purdey asked worriedly. "Are you all right?"

Steed ignored the question. "You say you've been travelling in time. You didn't happen to come from 1927, did you?"

Purdey blinked in surprise. "Yes! How did you know?"

"Because I remember," he breathed, the memories of a five-year-old boy flickering behind his eyelids. "You're Mr. and Mrs. O'Carroll, aren't you? The people who disappeared into thin air."

Gambit opened his eyes, managed a weak smile. "Yeah. Sorry about that. I needed to go somewhere that existed in both times, now and then, to help me travel. Didn't know if you'd be there." He coughed, then continued. "You were just a kid. I thought you wouldn't remember."

Steed shook his head. "Sometimes I wished I didn't. No one believed me, no matter how many times I told them. It was all put down to a child's imagination, nothing more. I don't dwell on it often, but I've no doubt it led to my tendency to investigate the Ministry's stranger assignments over the years..." He looked vaguely at the desk, where the book with the photo lay open. "I thought something about the whole affair seemed familiar. Nothing to be done about it, of course. It's ended up a very interesting life." He looked back to Purdey and Gambit, and smiled. "Can I touch you now? Only you look rather uncomfortable on the floor."

Purdey looked inquiringly at Gambit, who seemed surprised that Steed had known not to touch them at all. "Yes," he confirmed. "It's the friction of travelling that does it." Truth be told, Gambit wasn't entirely certain that his legs would hold him, and when tried to sit up, pain spasmed through his body. How he managed to suppress the cry that wanted to spill forth from his lips, he didn't know, but somehow between Purdey and Steed, he managed to get to his feet and stayed that way, swaying gently and leaning heavily on both. Steed proffered a handkerchief, and Purdey used it to wipe the worst of the gore from his face.

"What's our next move?" Steed asked, after he was relatively clean again. "Purdey said you were being pursued by some sort of time agents."

"Did she?" Gambit looked knowingly at Purdey, clenching his jaw and trying not to admit to himself how much pain he was in. "Well, it doesn't matter. It's my problem, not yours."

"I rather thought that, by virtue of being a team, all problems were everyone's problems," Steed said mildly. "It's certainly become Purdey's problem, at the very least."

Gambit shook his head, clenched his eyes shut. "It doesn't have to be. They only want me. They want a time traveller to take back to their people for study. If I'm gone, they'll probably ignore you."

"You can't believe we'll stand by and let them take you!" Purdey cut in, outraged.

"You might not have a choice," Gambit said grimly, pulling away from her and backing up with what little strength he still possessed. "Either way, I'm not going to risk it. I won't let you die because of me."

"Mike, you can't travel again so soon. It takes too much out of you," Purdey protested. Something about his posture, however subtle, registered with her, and she recognisied the first signs of an attempt to travel. Gambit staggered over to the record player, faltered, scattered records as he half-fell over the shelf, and nearly ended up on the floor, saved only by Purdey hurrying over to prop him up.

"It seems your colleague is more sensible than you, Mr. Gambit."

The three agents glanced round in surprise at the sound of Steel's voice. The grim, blond man had materialised just behind Steed, stance as firm and uncompromising as the set of his jaw. Sapphire stood slightly behind him and to his right. Steed's eyes widened imperceptibly as he took in her resemblance to Purdey. He looked to Purdey and met her eyes, silently asking the question despite already knowing the answer: Is that them? She nodded, once, curtly, eyes urging him to aid her in defending Gambit from the intruders. He returned it without hesitation, turned and levelled his gaze at the otherworldly pair.

"Humans were never built to survive the corridors of Time," Steel continued, when he saw he had their attention. "Your bodies are weak and unprepared for the strains. Your colleague was born with an ability to compensate for the effects of the travel, but shielding another human who is not immune undoubtedly taxes his body to breaking point." He looked Gambit up and down appraisingly. "I'm surprised he managed it once, let alone twice. A third journey, even a solitary one, would be equivalent to suicide. You must come with us, Mr. Gambit. You have no alternative."

"He does," Purdey shot back, before Gambit, almost mute with pain and fatigue, could open his mouth. His legs buckled beneath him, and Purdey was forced to lower him gently to the ground, all the while keeping her gaze locked on Steel. "He has me," she said fiercely. "And Steed. And we're not going to stand aside and let you whisk him away to who knows where."

Steel raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Steed, I assume?" he inquired of the senior agent.

Steed nodded, gaze level. "Yes. The so-called time agents, I presume?"

"That's correct," Steel confirmed. "Steel. This is Sapphire." He inclined his head in the Purdeyalike's direction. "I don't know what your friends have told you about us, Mr. Steed, but you should know that our abilities go well beyond anything you've encountered."

"Oh, I don't know," Steed contradicted, tone almost breezy. "You'd be surprised what pops up in this dimension."

"No," Steel said flatly. "I wouldn't. I've seen what exists outside the confines of the timestream, what breaks through when given the chance. If agents such as Sapphire and myself didn't mend the integrity of time, this world would no longer exist. Your friend contains the key to mending the tears that his kind—" He spat the word. "—selfishly inflict upon the corridor, placing all of us at risk."

"I understand," Steed replied. "And I sympathise. Our lines of work overlap more than you may believe. It's difficult enough to see your task through to the end, without loose cannons complicating matters." Steel's eyebrows raised in mild surprise, as though unaccustomed to hearing such statements come from humans. "Alternatively, there are times when no assignment, no goal, is worth the sacrifice, or the casualties it would require," Steed continued, sensing he'd gained a modicum of credibility in Steel's eyes. "I understand the reasons behind what you're doing at the most basic of levels, but I'm afraid I simply cannot sacrifice Gambit in order to achieve them."

Steel smiled grimly. "We don't require your permission, Steed. We can take Gambit at any time. This conversation is a mere formality. There is nothing you can do to change the outcome."

"There is," Purdey said softly, so softly it took a moment for Steel to register the words.

Steel turned his penetrating gaze on her. "Yes? You believe you can fight us?"

"Yes," Purdey confirmed, eyes burning at an intensity that would put Sapphire to shame. "You travel to different points in time, where strange things are happening, and investigate, don't you? That's what you're saying."

"That's a very simplistic summary, but yes," Steel confirmed.

"Right. Well, it just so happens that our business often involves investigating strange things as well, and if you take Gambit, I promise you I will spend the rest of my life making sure that whenever something strange goes on, someone turns up there, and makes things very difficult for you or your friends."

Steel scowled. "You'd be putting your entire planet at risk, not to mention the integrity of its timeline."

"I don't care," Purdey said stubbornly. "Steed's right. First you take Gambit. Then what? Who else? How many people are a 'reasonable' number to sacrifice for the sake of making your job easier?" She shook her head. "At some point there won't be any of us left to save. So I'm going to stop you, right now, starting with Gambit."

Even Steel's notoriously stoic facade was cracking. "You..."

"Steel." Sapphire had been so quiet that the rest of the players had almost forgotten she was there, a silent shadow behind Steel. "Could I speak to you for a moment?"

Steel's eyes never left Purdey. "There's nothing to discuss."

"Steel." Sapphire's voice was soft but firm. Not unlike Purdey's own. Steel tore his eyes from his partner's doppelganger to meet another pair of blue eyes. His gaze was poison, but she didn't flinch. "Please," she urged.

Steel looked at Steed and Purdey, then back at her, finally relented through movements rather than words. He stalked a few paces away from where the humans were clustered, Sapphire drifting behind him. They faced one another, automatically dispensing with the need for spoken words.

I think she may be right, Sapphire opined.

Steel was outraged. Are you suggesting we capitulate to the humans?

No, Sapphire assured. I'm suggesting that we should reconsider our strategy.

Steel clearly wasn't happy with the idea, but he was regarding Sapphire with a little less hostility than he had previously. In what way?

The girl has a point. If we take Gambit, and it leads to more human interference in our assignments, it will make performing our functions difficult. For all of us.

What makes you think that she's capable of following through on her threats? Steel wanted to know. She's one girl, he's one man. The pair of them can only interfere on a limited number of occasions in the course of their timelines.

She could recruit others, Sapphire pointed out, with irrefutable logic.

Why should she? For the sake of one man?

Not any man. Her partner. There is a bond. Sapphire looked at him meaningfully. I would do the same for you, and I know you would for me. What they have is no different.

Steel didn't have an answer to that. He neatly skirted over the issue and replied, It's easy to argue, but what do you propose to do when we go back? Without leverage, there's no telling how long before they trap us somewhere else, a place from which we can't escape.

I've thought of that, Sapphire replied. We don't need him. Not his body. I can travel with him. I can take time back, and then have him take me forward again. I can study how he travels, how he causes damage. It's possible I could learn how to repair that damage. That way, any information we gather belongs to us, and stays with us as long as we need it. If we hand over Gambit, we lose control over the information, and then we will be at their mercy. It's safer this way, and the humans will not protest.

Steel didn't look pleased with the idea, but he couldn't deny that Sapphire's plan possessed a certain logic. How can you be certain Gambit and the other humans will agree to let you travel with Gambit? They have no reason to trust us.

No, Sapphire agreed. But Gambit's desire to protect his friends is stronger than his mistrust, and the other humans are powerless to stop him if he chooses to cooperate. Please, Steel. I believe this is our best course of action.

Steel thought for another moment, and Sapphire could hear the flow of his thoughts, the split-second calculation of the probability of success. Then he nodded, just once. Proceed, Sapphire.

Sapphire allowed herself a small smile, then turned to where Steed and Purdey were still standing guard over Gambit's collapsed form. She took one, small, non-threatening step toward them, but Steed and Purdey automatically closed ranks against her. Sapphire smiled warmly.

"I believe I may have a solution to our problem," she told the agents. "One which should satisfy all of us."

Purdey snorted derisively. "I'll believe that when I hear it."

"Then listen," Sapphire replied, tone not brooking any argument. "We do not require Gambit himself, only information about his method of travel. If I were to travel with him, I could better understand how it is that he damages the corridors of time, and how to best repair that damage."

"And then you whisk him back to wherever you came from," Purdey pointed out, crossing her arms defensively. "No. Anyway, it doesn't matter. He can't travel again. Not now. It would kill him. Your friend said so himself."

Sapphire's smile never wavered. "Yes, if he attempted to travel by himself, the exertion of the trip would indeed kill him. But if he had another source of energy, another way of powering his trip through time, he could travel without risking further injury."

"Another source of energy?" Steed inquired, regarding her with cautious interest. "You?"

Sapphire's smile broadened. "Yes, Mr. Steed. One of my gifts is the ability to take time back. I believe I could use that ability to help your friend travel."

"And he wouldn't be harmed in the process?" Steed reiterated, wanting to be clear on that point.

"Not at all," Sapphire assured, sensing that Steed was coming around to the idea. Purdey, however, was being positively stubborn.

"Forgive me for not having confidence in your abilities," she said acridly. "But I don't think another trip through time will do Gambit any good at all, no matter how many power sources he has along for the ride."

Sapphire's smile finally disappeared, to be replaced by an icy sobriety. "Leaving him as he is will not help him, either," she countered, choosing now to play her trump card, the one she'd withheld even from Steel. "Another of my abilities allows me to measure the remaining lifespan of organisms. The last time Gambit and I met, I took his reading. His life was not to end for some time. But now, even from a distance, I can sense that has changed. The travelling his injured him internally. Even with medical assistance, he'll die in a matter of hours."

Purdey froze, looked down at Gambit, whose eyes were screwed up in pain. "No," she murmured, shaking her head. "No, you're lying. You can't possibly know that. You only want us to let you take him..."

"Purdey..." Gambit rasped, and the attention of the entire room was immediately transferred to him. "She's right. I went too far. I travelled too soon." He licked dry lips. "There's no going back. I'm broken inside. I can feel it."

Purdey was still shaking her head, the movement becoming more and more frantic. "No, no," she repeated with ragged calm. "We'll get you a doctor. You'll be fine."

Gambit managed a sad, weak half-smile. "No doctors specialising in time-travel injuries outside Doctor Who, Purdey-girl. Doesn't matter where they take me. I'm as good as dead anyway."

"No!" Purdey exclaimed, whirling around to point accusingly at Sapphire. "You! You did this. Even if we do what you ask, it won't undo the damage you've done. Why should we let you have him when you've already killed him?"

"Because I can help him," Sapphire said serenely, and Purdey calmed down fractionally, enough to let her continue. "I can take time back. I can undo the damage to his body. If he travels forward and I take him back, I can achieve it without affecting his age. I can heal him, but you must let me travel with him, and soon. Once he dies, he won't be able to execute the counter-force needed to heal him." She looked from Purdey to Steed, imploring them to understand. "It's the only way for both sides to be satisfied."

Steed looked to Gambit. "It's your life, Gambit," he told the younger man. "What should we do?"

Gambit managed a nod. "Let her take me."

"No!" Purdey protested, dropping to her knees beside him. "You can't trust her!"

"No, but if I wait much longer, I won't be able to trust anyone." Gambit reached up and ran a finger along her jaw. "I brought this on myself, Purdey. It's my fault you're involved. The least I can do is get you out of this mess. And if I'm lucky, it'll keep me alive."

"But if it doesn't work, if she's lying..." Purdey whispered, taking his hand. "What will happen to you?"

Gambit managed a half-shrug. "Something not many people get to experience, I suspect. If I'm going to die, I may as well see another dimension while I'm at it. See if the science-fiction writers got it right." He turned his head slightly so he could look at Sapphire. "If I come with you, will you promise to let Steed and Purdey go?"

"Of course." Sapphire looked over her shoulder at Steel, who nodded.

"And you think you can heal me?"

"I'm certain of it."

Gambit sighed, then held out his hand to her. "Then you'd better hurry up, because for a time-traveller, I don't have a lot of actual time left."

Sapphire walked toward them with graceful strides, coming up to Steed, who held her eyes for a moment, making certain she knew that he would see that the agreement was upheld, before stepping aside. Purdey let out a wail.

"Steed, you can't."

"No, but Gambit can," Steed said grimly, walking around Gambit's prone form to rest his hands on her shoulders. "There's nothing we can do, Purdey. It's his choice. We're in over our heads for once."

"But..." Purdey was looking down at him with heartbreakingly sad eyes, willing him reconsider. "It isn't fair."

Gambit looked to Sapphire. "Give us a minute," he ordered, voice hoarse but firm, and to his surprise, Sapphire complied. He turned back to Purdey, amazed that two women could look exactly the same, and yet completely different. "Come closer, Purdey-girl. My voice is going to give out any second now."

Purdey looked to Steed, then did as she was bid, getting as close to the floor as she could, until Gambit's mouth was near her ear.

"Do you remember you asked me if you'd ever met a future version of me?" he whispered.

Purdey frowned, wondering why on earth he was bringing that up now. "Yes," she confirmed. "You said no."

"Yes," Gambit agreed. "Because you haven't, not really. We didn't meet. But that doesn't mean I didn't see you."

Purdey glanced at him in surprise. "What do you mean?" she said softly.

Despite the circumstances, Gambit blushed. "I, uh, I know I said I didn't want to see what happened to you in the future. But I let myself make one trip into the past. To see you dance."

Purdey was looking at him uncomprehendingly. "What?" she breathed.

"I went back to 1970," Gambit explained, voice too soft to carry to the room's other occupants. "When you were in the Royal Ballet. I saw you perform. Swan Lake, I think it was, but I can't be sure. You know me and the ballet. Most of it's lost on me." He managed a weak laugh, but it turned into a cough, and Purdey saw flecks of blood form at the corners of his mouth. "I know I've seen you practice, and I've seen you fight. Thought it was a shame I never got to see you put in an actual performance." He managed a half-smile. "You were good, as far as I could tell."

Purdey's shock was clear on her face. "Why didn't I see you?" she hissed.

"Made sure you didn't," Gambit wheezed, stifling another cough. "Sat close to the back, off to the side, didn't shave, hunched up in my seat. If you saw me, who knows what it would have done to the timeline? I was risking enough as it was."

"Then why go at all?" Purdey wanted to know.

Gambit's smile was faint, but definitely there. "Some things are worth the risk," he said fondly, reaching up to run just the tip of his finger along her jaw, before his hand fell back weakly.

"Mike Gambit, you are impossible," Purdey whispered, shaking her head and squeezing his hand.

"No. Just a bit improbable," he returned, then shuddered. "I have to go now, before it's too late." He looked up at Sapphire, who was hovering just a short distance away. "I'm ready."

Sapphire knelt beside Gambit, took his other hand, met Purdey's eyes across his body. "I promise I'll return him to you, and he'll be well."

"We'll hold you to that," Steed reminded, meeting Gambit's eyes. "We'll be waiting, or someone will, no matter which century you pop up in. I'll make certain of that, as much as I can."

"I know," Gambit said. "Thanks, Steed." He squeezed Purdey's hand. "See you on the other side, Purdey-girl."

"Mike Gambit..." Purdey managed, a sob catching in her throat, but Steed was pulling her away, and her hand slipped from his. "If you don't come back alive, I'll kill you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Gambit murmured, and managed half a wink before he turned his attention back to Sapphire. "All right. Let's go."

Sapphire nodded, then looked to Steel for confirmation. He returned her nod, and she looked down into Gambit's eyes, and smiled.

"I think we should take a little trip together, Mr. Gambit," she said brightly, and with that, Sapphire and Gambit winked out of existence.


	7. The Corridor

When Gambit's eyes opened, he was greeted by nothing more than a yawning chasm of black. Black behind him, in front of him, above him, beneath him, stretching out endlessly and unyielding in all directions. There was no texture, no point of reference, no sound. Nothing at all. And yet, there was light, somehow, imbuing his immediate surroundings. He looked around in vain, and was unable to detect a source, but it was there. He could see his hand in front of his face, and, more worryingly, his feet, which were standing on nothing but more black void, despite the sensation of solid ground beneath the soles of his boots. Gambit looked up and decided not to think about what would happen if the invisible surface ceased to exist. There was nothing he could do about it, even if it did. Better to focus on other things.

I understand that this must be difficult for you. Gambit blinked, and realised that Sapphire was standing several feet away, facing him. He was fairly certain she hadn't been there a moment ago, and he hadn't heard her arrive, but then this was Sapphire. There was no reason that her sudden appearance should make logical sense. He cast his eyes around their featureless surroundings instead.

"Is this the corridor of time?" he asked conversationally. "Or whatever it is that you call it?"

Sapphire put her head to one side and regarded him with interest. Do you not see the corridor when you travel?

"Not really," Gambit admitted. "I shut my eyes, but I do see a strange swirling behind my eyelids. Or maybe I don't shut my eyes, and I actually do see it. I've never been able to work out which. When I'm actually travelling, I'm usually concentrating on the destination. But once I arrive, I honestly couldn't tell you what it's like when I do it. I don't know if my mind blocks it out because it's too much for it to take, or if there's not much to remember to begin with. All I know is that it takes the wind out of me, and makes me smell like a bad delicatessen."

Sapphire nodded, not in confirmation, but as though this information was new and she was filing it away for future reference. I could not say for certain, she began, beginning to walk toward him, but I suspect that your mind is, in fact, trying to protect itself.

Gambit squinted at her as she approached. Something was wrong. His face took on a look of horror. "Why aren't your lips moving when you talk?" he asked carefully, taking a step back.

Like all elementals, I possess an ability which you would probably call 'telepathy.' Normally we use it to communicate between one another, but on occasion, we can speak into a human's mind. Sapphire regarded him with mild amusement. Does it bother you?

"Yes," Gambit said quickly. "My head's full enough with impossible things. I don't need to add another to the list."

"All right," Sapphire agreed, and much to Gambit's relief, her lips moved. "Is this better?"

"Much. Thanks," Gambit confirmed, unable to hide the relief in his voice. He turned his attention back to the void. "So, this is the time corridor, then?"

"Yes," Sapphire confirmed. "And, I'm afraid, no."

Gambit arched an eyebrow. "I should have known it'd be something like that. Where are we then?"

"Strictly speaking, we're not anywhere at all," Sapphire informed. She was very close now, somehow travelling the distance much more quickly, and, at the same time, much slowly, than she should have at the rate she was going. "This place is not a place. It is beyond and outside space, within the very fibre of time itself. And within you."

Gambit furrowed his brow. "Are you telling me this is all in my head?"

"Yes," Sapphire repeated. "And, again, no. You and I are not physical beings here, but mere representations of ourselves which we ourselves have created. This—" She outstretched her arms into the void, "—is your interpretation of the corridor, and how you have chosen to perceive us within it. As you said, the human mind was never meant to see such things, let alone understand them. You are interpreting it in a way that conforms to your view of the world. Sound. Light. Gravity. Ground." She tapped her heel on the invisible floor and let the echo rise up in illustration.

"If this is all some self-generated illusion, where actually are we?" Gambit wanted to know. "And before you say it, I understand we're not anywhere at all physically, but give me the idiot's explanation."

Sapphire looked pleased at his grasp of the concept, despite how tenuous it was. "We are in the corridor, locked together, unmoving. I am pulling time back, you are pushing it forward. The result is a stalemate. We are stuck at a fixed point of time."

"And that's good, is it?"

"It is what I intended, yes," Sapphire confirmed.

"And are you learning anything useful?"

Sapphire closed her eyes and concentrated. "Yes. I can see how it is you travel, how it damages the fabric of time. By taking time back, I can undo that damage. Further observation will enable me to devise a method of mending time when I am not able to take time back directly after you damage it."

"Further observation?" Gambit repeated, looking mildly alarmed at the phrase. "How much longer is it going to take?"

Sapphire opened her eyes, and smiled knowingly. "The tiniest fraction of a second. Or all of eternity. We are simultaneously within the flow of the corridor of time, and frozen at a fixed point. Time is relative, but here we have no point of reference against which to measure it. Here there is no 'long' or 'short' period of time, because time is not passing."

"So the fact that I feel as though I'm waiting is down to my head, is it?"

Sapphire's countenance was the very embodiment of patience. "Yes. Among the perceptions your brain has incorporated into this place is what, to you, feels like the passage of time. But there is no such passage occurring."

"So I'm stuck in time's waiting room," Gambit sighed, plunging his hands into his imaginary pockets. "I'm sure that's what passes for a joke in some higher-dimensional plane." Sapphire seemed mildly confused by the reference, but he ignored her and carried on. "Right, if I'm going to be stuck here for what might be awhile, the least my brain could do is perceive a deck of cards, or a magazine, or something." He thought for a moment longer, then felt a smile stretch his features. "Or a drink. Scotch. That' go down nicely right about now."

"This is not your personal fantasy landscape," Sapphire snapped, mildly annoyed at his jaunty attitude toward the hallowed corridor of time. "It is your perception of the corridor. You cannot perceive anything that diverges drastically from what you see."

"And I can't see any decent pubs in the time corridor," Gambit surmised. "No wonder things are always trying to crawl out of it."

Sapphire's eyes flashed a brighter blue, and Gambit's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "Sorry, am I distracting you? I hope I didn't just make you accelerate the aging of my liver. I'm going to need it for the Scotch."

"No," Sapphire assured, calming down slightly. "Both my observations, and the rejuvenation of your body are proceeding as planned."

"And you can talk to me at the same time?" Gambit whistled, impressed. "I knew women were better at multi-tasking, but I don't think we're quite at that stage yet. Are all female...elements so efficient, or are you at the head of your class?"

A slight frown crinkled Sapphire's features. "Many of my colleagues of similar atomic weights possess abilities and capacities similar to mine," she informed. "Concepts such as 'sex' and 'gender' do not have the same meaning you attribute to them."

Gambit thought about that for a moment. "Er, I'm going to leave that one alone and take your word for it," he said finally. "I've had enough surprises for one day without asking about your lot's sex life. I'll be over here, in my own brain, trying not to think about it." He put his fingers to his temples. "Life in the time continuum feels like being hungover without the night before."

Sapphire was regarding him with a mixture of bemusement and curiousity. "Tell me, why is it that you travel in time?"

Gambit opened an eye that was currently screwed shut. "Haven't we had this conversation, or is déjà vu part of the corridor experience?"

"We have," Sapphire confirmed. "But I would like you to explain it again."

"Explain?" Gambit lowered his hands and regarded her with his own expression of bemusement. "Not much to explain, really. I enjoy it. It's a way to experience something new, learn about where we came from and where we're going." He paused, jaw working gently, then added, "And it's an escape. Someplace I can go to think, recharge, without anyone asking anything from me." He tilted his head to one side with interest. "Don't you ever travel for pleasure?"

Sapphire shook her head. "All of our travels must be sanctioned, or for the purpose of completing our assignments. On occasion, we are granted leave to visit a time for no assigned reason, but our movements are normally observed."

Gambit nodded. "Thought as much. You do things the correct way, don't you? Follow all the rules." He paused, and gave Sapphire a knowing look." Except where your partner's concerned. You broke all the rules to find him, didn't you?"

"We are trained to locate one another if we're separated," Sapphire began, but Gambit cut her off.

"No, there's more to it than that. I've seen the way you look at him. You wanted to find him. You needed to find him." He regarded her levelly. Sapphire's poker face was impeccable, but there was something about the way they were bound together in the corridor that made her less inscrutable than she would have liked. "That's why you're helping me instead of dragging me away to your people. Because you don't just know that Steed and Purdey will do anything to try and find me. You understand it." He regarded her with a modicum of satisfaction. "We're not as different as you'd like to think."

"Perhaps," Sapphire allowed, not bothering to contradict him. "But lest you think we are identical, there are still things I do not understand. I can sense your heartbeat, your pulse. It quickens whenever you look at the woman, but not when you look at me, even though we share the same appearance. It should not make sense."

"But it does, or at least it does to you." Gambit moved toward her, and suddenly they were face-to-face, his eyes boring into hers, forcing her to hold his gaze, unwilling to let his argument be sidelined by Sapphire. He wanted, needed her to understand. It might be the only way he could ensure his, and Purdey and Steed's, future safety from the elements. "That's why you're doing this, isn't it? Because we're both trying to accomplish the same thing: to protect people we care about. And in spite of what they've no doubt trained you to think, you're not willing to do your job at all costs. Most, but not all. And you can't bring yourself to hurt someone in the same way you've been hurt. So you can pretend to be as aloof and unaffected by everything as your partner, but I think we both have attachments that run deeper than you let on. Maybe you're more human that you realise."

Sapphire allowed herself a ghost of a smile. "I wouldn't go quite that far, Mr. Gambit," she cautioned.

"I would," Gambit said, quite firmly. "And if there's hope for you, there's hope for the rest of the time agents, if I'm ever unfortunate enough to come across one of them again." He considered this scenario, then added, "Of course, you could always put in a good word for me..."

"I think that would do you more harm than good," Sapphire said knowingly. "You would be wise to give the others as few chances as possible to find you."

"You mean stop travelling?"

"Will you?"

"Not under threat," Gambit said grimly.

Sapphire opened her hands, and held them out, palms up, the picture of innocence. "I'm not threatening you."

Gambit was unfazed. "You're in my head. You know what I mean."

"I do not have to be in your head to know," Sapphire contradicted. "But I am not the threat. I can only give you advice. The threat will come from other quarters."

"Then I'd better keep my eyes open, hadn't I?" Gambit said, stubbornly.

"It would seem that way, yes," Sapphire agreed. "And I wish you luck in that endeavour. I hope for your sake that when we meet again, I will be one step ahead of the others."

"Again?" Gambit queried. "Does that mean-?"

"Good-bye, Mr. Gambit," Sapphire said simply, and then the void disappeared into a complete and all-encompassing blackness.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A million years and a split-second later, the black lightened into grey, then a dull yellow, and eventually resolved itself into the brightly-lit sitting room of John Steed. Mike Gambit squinted painfully at his surroundings, the light pounding into the back of his skull, but all things considered, he felt much better than he had before Sapphire had taken him away. The searing pains of his various internal injuries had ceased, as had the burn in his muscles, and the uncomfortable sensation that his brain was being boiled in his skull. Now all he felt was tired, worn out, and hungry. But he was alive, and that was so wonderful that he could take the rest of the sensations with more than good grace.

"There you are. We were starting to worry." Gambit turned his head to find Purdey smiling at him. She was sitting cross-legged on Steed's living room floor, and for the first time, Gambit realised that he was stretched out on Steed's couch, with a blanket over him. Purdey continued, "Sapphire said you would be out for an hour or two, but it's been nearly three. For a time-traveller, you're not very punctual."

"Yeah, well, better late than never," Gambit muttered, struggling to sit upright. "Or better yet, not late at all."

Purdey wrinkled her nose at the pun. "Clearly your trip to the corridor hasn't improved your sense of humour, but I suppose we can only ask for so many miracles from one dimension."

Gambit regarded her wryly. "It's nice to know that I can always count on you for a kind and sympathetic bedside manner, Purdey. What happened to all the screaming bloody murder to keep me alive?"

"It served its purpose, but the moment's passed, don't you think?" Purdey said briskly, reaching out to pick up a glass from the coffee table. "Although I suppose you could always go back and revisit it. Here. Drink this."

"No thanks. That's one part of history I had enough of the first time around." Gambit took the glass, and downed it quickly, the alcohol burning all the way down into his stomach in the most pleasant way possible. "Are Sapphire and Steel gone?"

"That's right." Steed appeared in the archway over the living room's entrance. He made his way over to join them. "Not long after she dropped you off. They told us to look after you, said they had what they needed, and disappeared the moment our backs were turned. Quite unnerving."

"That's their modus operandi," Gambit said ruefully, finishing his drink. "You're lucky her eyes didn't start glowing."

Steed let that one pass. "Is it over, or should I rearrange the furniture to accommodate any future visitors from the past 200 years?"

"Wish I knew," Gambit admitted. "Sapphire warned me to keep a low profile, said I might attract her colleagues if I didn't, and something tells me they wouldn't all be as accommodating."

"You'll have to stop travelling, then, won't you?" Purdey chimed in, although she sounded a bit sad at the idea.

Gambit shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't really decided. I love doing it, and I hate giving in under pressure, but I'm not just risking myself anymore. They know about you two now."

Steed smiled cheerily and gave Gambit a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll make the right decision," he said confidently. "But I think we're safe for the moment, and Sapphire did say we ought to feed you. Your body's bound to be a bit depleted after that ordeal."

Purdey perked up at the mention of food. "Oh, yes, I could murder an omelette. I haven't eaten since 1927!" She sprang to her feet and beat a path to the kitchen. Gambit and Steed exchanged knowing glances.

"That explains it," Steed said, in mild wonder. Gambit raised an eyebrow.

"Explains what?"

"Purdey's appetite. It's positively ancient. No wonder we can't keep up." Gambit chuckled even as Steed offered him his shoulder, and they struggled off to the kitchen together.

End


End file.
